The Lines We Cross
by happy29
Summary: Set after Call of the Wild but before Fraser and Kowalski set off on their quest. Fraser and Kowalski begin the adventure of a relationship. But the return of old friends could destroy the relationship before it even gets off the ground. A blast from the past in the form of Frank Zuko and Mark Smithbauer add even more danger to the mix.


" _So, you'll be back in a few weeks, right?"_ Ray Kowalski's concerned words resonated in Fraser's ears as he waited in the long line to board the airplane back to Chicago. He had lost count of the numerous people he had let go in front of him. He didn't know if it was his nerves or his ingrained politeness, but he found himself moving further back in the boarding line. Maybe it was because he needed time for Ray's confession to sink in. _"I love you, Ben,"_ he'd said and flushed. And what was wrong with Fraser? Why had he let Ray be the first one to say something? Especially when he felt the same way? Because he wasn't as brave as Ray, perhaps. An elderly gentleman and his companion took up the tail end of the lengthy line and Fraser stepped out of his place and allowed them to pass as well. What were two more people?

Fraser wished he didn't have to take this flight alone. He was exhausted. Ray Kowalski had flown back to Chicago three weeks prior. Fraser had spent two of those three weeks at his father's cabin, grieving. Finally, after almost four years, he was able to mourn his father's passing. It wasn't until after he watched his parents walk away in that abandoned mineshaft, that he realized he had never shed a tear for his father. He wanted a shoulder to cry on, but couldn't bear to ask Ray to be that shoulder, even though Fraser knew he would offer it up willingly and with no questions. Ray would understand.

Maybe that was the problem. Since they had declared their feelings for each other, Fraser was scared that Ray would understand him too well. He had always thought that if he could only tell Ray how he felt, he would no longer be afraid. If anything it was worse now - what if Ray saw the real him, and decided he didn't like what he saw? Fraser now felt that he had more to lose. Better that Ray didn't see him at his worst.

Then again, he missed Ray now more than ever. Perhaps he shouldn't have sent him away. When he couldn't stand the silence any longer, Fraser went to visit his sister Maggie. It was a strange feeling, to visit someone who was such close kin to him, with whom he shared so much in common, and yet who he hardly knew. He had hoped to get to know her better, but they were too much alike. Neither one of them could break through their reserve. Although she was friendly enough, Fraser missed Ray so much it hurt. But it wouldn't have been fair to ask him to stay behind and watch from the sidelines as Fraser dealt with his emotions from the Muldoon fall-out.

Besides, Fraser told himself, it was for the best. Ray had things he needed to settle in Chicago with the return of Ray Vecchio. Fraser was hopeful there would be an open position and Lieutenant Welsh would be able to keep Ray on his staff. Otherwise, it was possibly off to another undercover assignment for Kowalski or the return to his old precinct and where would that leave the two of them?

When Ray hugged him goodbye at the airport before his flight home, Fraser had buried his head in his shoulder, trying to remember everything. This was a different hug from ones they had ever shared before. It was stronger and lasted longer. He remembered closing his eyes as Ray's arms closed around him, breathing in deeply, taking in the combined scent that was uniquely Ray with the sharp scent of motel bar soap. It was a strange combination that assaulted his senses. He found himself hugging Ray back with all he had, unwilling to let go.

" _You gonna be okay?"_ Ray had asked him, his face buried in Fraser's neck. It had been raining sleet for the better part of the morning and Fraser wasn't sure if it was the remnants from the ice dripping from Ray's head, but something wet was hitting his neck. When Ray pulled back, he settled his hands on Fraser's shoulder and held him at arm's length. His eyes were red and brimming with unshed tears. _"You don't have to do this alone,"_ his voice barely audible above the hustle and bustle of the small airport. _"I can stay…"_

"Excuse me, Sir," a woman's voice broke through replacing Ray's. "I need your boarding pass, please."

"Oh, of course." _'When did the line move?'_ he wondered. "I'm terribly sorry," Fraser apologized as he pulled the ticket out of his inside jacket pocket and handed it to her.

The attendant scanned the ticket and checked Fraser's identity against his passport. She handed the document back and gave him a broad smile. "Enjoy the flight, Mr. Fraser."

Fraser found his assigned seat and thanked the heavens above he wasn't seated next to the frantic toddler in 3B. He stowed his carry-on in the compartment above his seat and settled in next to the window. It was snowing lightly and he wondered what the weather was doing in Chicago. It was just into April but old man winter wasn't letting go quite yet. His original flight had already been delayed from two days ago due to an aggressive snow storm that passed though, which only added to his anxiety to be reunited with his friends again. He could hear the same nervousness in Kowalski's voice when he told him his flight had been delayed that he felt within himself. Yes, there was so much more to explore there when he got back.

He had spoken to Ray several times during his three weeks away and was reassured when Ray insisted on picking him up at the airport when Fraser decided to return. Getting in touch with Ray Vecchio seemed to be more difficult. Whenever he got through on Ray's home phone, he always seemed to be gone or resting. Fraser was eager to catch up with his old friend again. It had been a long time coming. Two years was an excruciating amount of time not to be able to speak to your best friend. Fraser settled back into his seat and closed his eyes as the plane began its journey down the runway. He hoped all was well in Chicago and that his Rays had found a way to work together. At last glance, they could barely tolerate breathing the same air. He hoped during his three weeks away, things had changed between them. Ray was probably just upset because Fraser had told him Kowalski was the one who was picking him up from the airport. Did it really matter in the grand scheme of things? He was still returning to Chicago.

* * *

Fraser startled awake as the plane touched down. He could hear the wails of the frantic child at the front of the plane and was thankful he had slept through most of the flight. As the plane pulled to a stop at the terminal gate, Fraser's lips turned upwards into a smile. Ray would be waiting for him. He checked his watch, they were thirty five minutes late in arriving. Now he wished he was sitting next to the child in the front. He would be off the plane and together with Ray that much quicker. He almost felt like a teenager ready to steal his first kiss. He missed the closeness of Ray, the happy feelings that flooded his soul when he held him in his arms. He was looking forward to the chance to explore this new relationship.

Fraser weaved through the other passengers as they walked through the terminal. Where again was the animal claim to check on Diefenbaker? He knew that he would have to stay in quarantine for at least 48 hours. And where was Ray?

" _Benny!"_ he heard a familiar voice shout above the noisy crowd.

Surprised to hear Ray Vecchio's voice, Fraser spun around in search of his friend. Maybe his Rays had worked through their differences and had come together to pick him up. Fraser found his friend and gave up a smile before pulling him into a hug. "Ray, it's good to see you."

"You too, Benny."

"Where's Ray Kowalski? I was under the impression that he was picking me up."

"Yeah well, about that…" Ray led Fraser towards the baggage claim. "Seems he had a date tonight. You got luggage?"

"A date?" Fraser's heart sank. How could he have read Kowalski wrong? Ray had told him he _loved_ him. Maybe he misinterpreted what he meant by _'love'_. He would be the first to admit he wasn't good at relationships. He tried to hide the disappointment on his face. While he was glad to see his friend, he had his hopes set on being picked up by Kowalski. Fraser squared his shoulders. "No, I just have my carry-on."

"Great." Vecchio spun on his heels and slipped his arm casually over Fraser's shoulder guiding him towards the exit. "How are you, Benny?"

"A little tired from the trip but otherwise, very well." Fraser replied. He stopped walking and threw a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the quarantine area. "I do, however, need to check on Diefenbaker. It won't take but a few moments. You can wait here if you'd like."

"No, it's alright," Vecchio rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air. "How could I forget about Dief?" Vecchio turned and matched steps with Fraser. "How is the doughnut thief?"

"He's good, but he's not going to be happy to be stuck in quarantine again."

"A small price for him to pay to come back to the land of unlimited junk food." Vecchio laughed and clapped Fraser on the shoulder. "Welcome back, Benny."

"You think Dief's going to go crazy being locked up for forty-eight hours?" Vecchio questioned Fraser as he led him through the parking lot.

"He's managed it before. I'm sure he'll manage this time."

Vecchio pushed the button on his remote and the lights and horn beeped on a shiny black pearl Cadillac parked in the front row. He strolled up to the driver's side door and grinned wide at Fraser.

"This…" Fraser hiked his bag up further on his shoulder and slid his hand across the shiny surface of the hood admiring its beauty. "Is _your_ car?" he asked in disbelief. He stepped back and whistled at the sleek car before him.

"Nice huh?" Vecchio beamed as he cleaned a spot of dirt off the roof. "Going undercover with the mob came with a few perks. And since my Riv got dumped in the lake, I figured I needed a car that didn't have any bad karma attached to it."

Fraser stared at his friend across the hood of the car. "It's good to see you again, Ray."

"It's good to be seen. Wasn't always sure I was going to make it back. You know, other than in a body bag. And that was _if_ they could find my body."

"It must have been horrible for you. Always having to watch your back."

"It wasn't _all_ bad." A strange, almost wistful expression flitted across Ray's face. He laughed lightly and the moment passed. "But I'm glad it's over." Vecchio motioned to Fraser's car door. "Now, enough with the mushy stuff. It's cold out here. Hop in and I'll take you home."

Fraser looked up into the night sky and noticed the falling snow for the first time. Maybe Chicago could feel like home this time around. It finally registered what Vecchio had said. _Home._ Last Vecchio knew, he had an apartment. "Oh," Fraser began and then stopped. He had been planning on staying with Ray Kowalski. But since he seemed to be otherwise engaged with a _date_ , Fraser bristled at the thought, the Consulate would have to do. He really needed to find a place of his own. "You can drop me off at the Consulate if you don't mind." Fraser thought about Kowalski's first day on the job. "You do remember that it moved?"

"Of course I remember. The Dragon Lady was pissed off that you decided to go on vacation when the move took place." Vecchio stared hard at his friend. "You're not planning on working tonight? For God's sake, Benny, at least go home and get settled for the day."

"No, of course I won't be working. I was living at the Consulate."

"What?" Vecchio's face twisted in confusion. "What happened to your apartment?"

"It burnt down while I was back home shortly after you left for Vegas." Fraser gave his friend a sheepish grin. "I never managed to find the time to find a new one. I came back and everything had changed all around me."

"I know what you mean. I come back expecting to jump back into my life and that twerp Kowalski wasn't ready to give it back."

"But you've got it back now."

"Yeah, I'm back to being me. And he's back to being whoever the fuck he was before."

"Ray…" Fraser grew quiet and stared out the window at the falling snow. "That's not necessary. He's an excellent detective. And a good friend… just like you." Fraser reached for the handle above the car door. "Ray, that was a red light you just ran."

"What? I slowed down. Benny, we've been back together less than thirty minutes and you're already nit-picking my driving."

"Well, I see it hasn't improved any over the course of the last two years," Fraser countered.

"At least I've never driven you into a lake."

"In all fairness, your car was very much on fire. Ray didn't really have much of a choice in the matter."

"Only you, Benny. That kind of shit _only_ happens to you." Vecchio playfully punched Fraser in the shoulder. "How about you stay with me tonight? We can stay up late and catch up."

"Thank you kindly for the offer, but it has been a long day of traveling and I'd really like to go home and rest. I can come over tomorrow and spend the day. I won't have any duties at the Consulate for a few more days."

"Go home? You don't have a home."

"Well, the Consulate has been sufficient enough for now."

"Is it a money thing? Because if you need a little help…"

"No, it's not a money thing. I can afford a place of my own. I just never found the time."

"It's been two years. How could you not find time in two years? Did you never take a day off? What do you have like a hundred built up vacation days now?"

Fraser laughed at his friends over exaggeration. "No, nothing like that. I just never took the time I suppose. I was either working at the Consulate or working with Ray at the police station. And…"

"You ever stay with Kowalski?"

"What?" Fraser turned his attention towards his friend. The question came out of left field. What kind of question was that? Did it really matter? "I may have on occasion."

"So if you can stay with him, you can stay with me."

Fraser sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Ray, I'd really like you to take me to the Consulate. I'm tired and I would like to get some sleep. If I go home with you, we will end up staying up all night reminiscing and neither of us will get any sleep. And I'm sure your doctor would still like you to rest and take it easy."

"I'm fine, Benny." Ray snapped. "I survived the mob. A lousy bullet isn't going to slow me down."

"Still, you should rest. I promise, Ray, I will get some sleep and come over early. We can have breakfast and spend the day catching up."

Vecchio pulled up in front of the Consulate and killed the engine. "You sure about not coming back to my place?"

"I'm sure. Your family will appreciate not being kept up all night."

"You kidding? They'd love to see you. Especially Frannie."

Fraser cringed at the thought of sleeping under the same roof as Francesca Vecchio. He would never get any sleep. "Thank you for the hospitality, Ray, but you know as well as I do that nobody would get any sleep if I came home with you. It's best if I just stay at the Consulate. I'll see you tomorrow, Ray. Thank you for the ride home." Fraser opened his door and the cold from outside quickly chilled the inside of the car.

"Again, it's not home, but you're welcome." Fraser got out and moved to close the car door. "Oh Benny," Vecchio leaned over in his seat, the seatbelt digging into his shoulder.

"Yes, Ray?" Fraser slung his bag over his shoulder and dropped his head back into the car.

Vecchio contemplated telling Fraser that Kowalski wasn't _really_ on a date, but rather that he had told Ray Fraser's flight had been delayed again just so he could pick him up instead. "Never mind. Sleep well and I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night , Ray."

* * *

Fraser turned his key in the lock and pushed open the door of the Consulate. After falling out of the airplane into a field of snow, he wasn't sure he could ever return to Chicago. Canada was home. But Canada wasn't where Ray was going to be. Not that it really mattered now. Fraser closed the door behind him and flipped on the light switch in the entryway. There was a chill in the air. Turnbull must have turned down the heat again when he went home. He had stopped counting the number of times he had told Turnbull to just let it be. Fraser read the reading on the thermostat and shivered. 'What was wrong with Turnbull?' he wondered. The temperature in the Consulate was fifty- six degrees. Fraser adjusted the heat and went into the kitchen to start a pot of water for some tea, flipping lights on and off along the way.

Fraser dropped his bag onto the floor beside the stove. The thud echoed through the empty kitchen. The Consulate was quiet tonight. Fraser sighed. Why did tonight feel so much lonelier than the other nights he spent alone at the Consulate? Last time he was here he had at least a voice in the closet, now there was nobody. He turned, squared his shoulders and drew open the utensil drawer retrieving his loose leaf tea ball. He filled it with spearmint tea leaves, his favorite flavor. He thought of Ray and his chocolate flavored coffee and smiled. He wondered what Ray's lips would taste like after they brushed against his. Would the flavor of his coffee transfer? Somehow, spearmint tea no longer seemed so appealing.

He bent over and picked up his duffle bag and left the kitchen. "Might as well unpack while the water is boiling," he muttered as he made his way down the hall to his office. He shivered as he pushed his office door open. It really was cold. He hoped there was nothing wrong with the furnace. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't heard it kick on yet. Just what he needed to come back to. A broken down furnace. Fraser dropped his duffle beside his desk. He took off his coat and stetson and hung them both up in his closet. No sign of his father anywhere. Fraser pushed the door closed and knocked his head against it. He lived most of his life without his father around. He could do it again.

* * *

 _Thump._ There it was again. Ray rocked back on his heels and stared at the ceiling. No one was supposed to be here. Footsteps padded down the hall. Someone knew exactly where they were going. What did they want? Ray quietly placed the wrench and the thermocouple on the ground and reached for his gun under his jacket. He wished it weren't so damn cold. His fingers were already one step past frozen from trying to fix the furnace. Ray rubbed his free hand feverishly into his denim jeans, trying to restore some warmth and mobility. He blew on his other hand, trying to warm it enough to be usable. As he'd done a million times before, he clicked off the safety. Deliberately slow, he began to climb the stairs. He remembered on the way down to the basement, the fourth and seventh one from the bottom creaked and groaned when he stepped on them. He skipped these steps and made his way to the top. There was a soft glow coming from under the door. Ray distinctly remembered not turning the lights on. The power had been out when he arrived and he had to rely on the Maglite he kept in the glove box of the GTO.

Hand on the knob, Ray took a deep breath to calm his raging nerves. He startled when he felt the knob turn within his hand. Oh fuck. Someone was already at the door.

' _Shit,'_ Ray cursed inwardly. _'This is it. One. Two. Three.'_

Ray planted his feet into the top step, pressed his right shoulder into the door and took a deep breath. He put his finger on the trigger of his gun and pushed the basement door open with all his might.

The hallway was lit by a single lamp. Ray tackled the intruder to the ground. He pushed the man back to the ground when he attempted to get up, straddling his hips and pressing a knee into the guy's back. This guy was built bigger than Ray, had more muscle mass, but Ray had the element of surprise on his side. The guy was flat on his stomach and was struggling to maneuver out from under Ray's weight. He pressed his knee deeper into the man's lower back and attempted to grab his flailing arms. Ray swung his fist hard, landing a direct hit to the left side of the intruder's face.

" _Show me your hands_ , _scumbag_ ," Ray screamed as he pushed his gun into the guy's back. Ray grabbed a handful of hair and turned the guy's face into the light.

" _Fraser?"_ Ray immediately let go of Fraser's head and rocked back onto his heels, pinning Fraser's thighs to the ground. "What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded, surprised at the sight of Fraser.

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?" Fraser shouted back as he struggled to sit up. " _Get off me_."

"Oh, God... _sorry._ " Ray rolled to the side off Fraser's legs and hopped to his feet. He offered Fraser a hand as a sheepish smile pulled at his lips. "I heard footsteps and thumping and thought someone had broken into the Consulate."

"Nobody broke in." Fraser fell against the wall and rubbed his swelling jaw. "God, you still pack quite a punch."

"What the hell are you doing here, Frase?" Kowalski questioned again as he clicked the safety back on his gun and placed it on the table in the hallway. "I could have killed you."

'Well, that shows a lot of nerve,' Fraser thought bitterly remembering Vecchio's comment about Ray being on a date _._ He wasn't going there… _he wasn't_. "I live here, remember? What are _you_ doing here?" Fraser worked his jaw sideways checking for damage.

"Turnbull called earlier and said the furnace was on the fritz. The Ice Queen wasn't back yet and he didn't want to call a repairman without her authorization. He called and asked if I'd come take a look at it." Ray stepped forward and cringed at the bruise starting to form on Fraser's face. "You should probably, you know, maybe put some ice on that before it gets too bad."

Fraser glared at Ray ignoring his suggestion. "Why didn't you have the lights on?"

Ray simply shrugged. "They weren't working. The electric was out when I got here. I've been in the basement with my Maglite." Ray folded his arms across his chest and shivered. "You still haven't answered _my_ question. What are you doing here? Vecchio told me your flight was canceled. How'd you get here?"

"My flight wasn't canceled." Fraser pushed off the wall and headed in the direction of the kitchen. "Ray picked me up at the airport." 'Something you said _you_ would do,' Fraser thought bitterly to himself. He pulled open the third drawer down beside the sink and retrieved the ice pack, then moved to the freezer and filled it with ice. "He told me you were too busy with a _date_ and that you had asked him to pick me up instead." Fraser couldn't look at Ray. He was still trying to wrap his head around Ray being on a date with someone _else._ He wasn't a genius in the relationship department but even he knew this wasn't how they were supposed to start. You don't tell someone you love them and then go on a date with someone else.

"A _date_?" Ray repeated confused. "I didn't have a date. I've been here fixing the furn..." Ray pointed a finger in Fraser's direction. "That _asshole_ ," he exclaimed. "He told me your flight was canceled until tomorrow afternoon because of that snowstorm rolling through. I should… I should kick him in the fucking head." The level of Ray's voice rose as his anger grew. "I wouldn't do that to you."

Fraser paused for a moment and let what Ray had just said sink in. Ray Vecchio had lied to him... to _both_ of them. It made more sense than believing that Ray Kowalski, who he was already thinking of as _his_ Ray, could have lied to him so soon after their mutual declaration. Fraser's heart sank. Ray Vecchio wouldn't have done something as devious as this before Vegas, and for the life of him Fraser could not think why he was doing it now. He wondered what else had changed in his friend while he was gone?

"There's no need to yell at me, Ray," he said wearily. "I'm not the one who lied to you." Fraser winced as he placed the icepack on his swelling jaw.

"I'm sorry, you're right. Just wait until I see him." Ray stepped in front of Fraser and tentatively placed his hands on Fraser's hips. When Fraser didn't flinch or try to back away, he squeezed his hips gently and studied his face. "I'm really sorry about the uh, the jaw there," Ray cringed again. "I didn't know it was you."

"Obviously." Fraser rolled his eyes. He wasn't done being mad yet, at which Ray he wasn't sure. Vecchio for lying to him or Kowalski for about taking his head off. "I should be thankful you didn't shoot me in the back." Fraser shook his head. That was a low blow. But at this juncture, he didn't care. He was irritated and one step beyond tired. Ray Vecchio must have had his reasons for lying. Fraser made an effort to push down his resentment, then motioned to the basement with his free hand. "I'm sorry, it's been a long day and I'm just worn out."

"It's okay."

"So, what's wrong with the furnace?"

"Oh. Just needed a new thermocouple. The pilot light wouldn't stay lit. I should go finish it so we can get some heat back in this place." Ray squeezed past Fraser. "I'll be five minutes."

* * *

When Ray returned to the kitchen, Fraser had a cup of coffee waiting for him, doctored just the way he liked it. The heat had been restored and warmth slowly began to fill the kitchen. Fraser was rolling his mug between his hands, stealing the warmth. "Thank you for fixing the furnace."

Ray smiled. "It was nothin'." He pulled out a stool on the opposite side of the island and sat down. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to pick you up at the airport." He pulled his coffee cup to his lips and savored the flavor. "Thanks, this tastes great." Fraser could doctor his coffee just as well as him. "Vecchio told me you had called this morning and said because of the weather your flight had been canceled again. The weather's been really crazy lately, so there was no reason not to believe him."

"No." Fraser paused, still trying to puzzle out why Ray Vecchio had lied to him. "I think he was afraid that I wouldn't make any time for him once I came back."

"That's no reason for him to be an asshole and lie about stuff. I mean, you came back to Chicago to live, not just visit. He's gonna have plenty of time to catch up with you. It's not like he's going anywhere either."

Fraser scratched his eyebrow, troubled. Although he didn't understand it, he felt the need to defend his friend.

"Granted. But we haven't really been given a chance to talk since he came home from Vegas. Not with the Muldoon case blowing up around us and you and I taking an unexpected trip to Canada. And he has been gone a long time. I'm not saying I would have done the same thing, but I guess I can forgive what he did and cut him a little slack." Fraser stared into his mug of tea before daring a glance at Ray. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too." Ray flashed one of his swift, radiant smiles, then glanced back down, suddenly shy. "God, it's been so lonely without you."

"For me as well." Fraser gazed into his cup of tea again. "It's amazing how you can feel so alone, even when you're surrounded by so many people." Fraser looked up at Ray slowly, trying to hide his blush. "Especially when the one person you want to be with, isn't there."

Ray nodded, then swallowed. "I can't believe you thought Vecchio was telling the truth. Like I'd go on a date when I'd told you I love you."

"I'm sorry, Ray." Fraser rubbed his face with his hand, wearily, wincing as his fingers grazed his bruised skin. "I just… I suppose I am not used to someone loving me that wasn't Francesca Vecchio." He huffed out a small laugh. "I've never really known what it's like to be in love with someone who reciprocated my feelings."

"I do, you know, share those same feelings. Probably since the first day you walked into the station, looking completely confused and bewildered." Ray's smile was sweet and affectionate. Fraser found it quite contagious and felt himself returning the gesture.

"Yes, I know," Fraser let the words hang there for a moment, then smiled back at Ray. "And no, before you ask, that wasn't hard to say."

"You know, the whole time I was undercover as Vecchio, there was something I wanted to do. But I was never able to do it. Didn't want to blow his cover or fuck up his life when he came back to it. But, uh... oh hell." Ray slid off his stool and walked around the island. He stepped up to Fraser, placed his hands on Ben's cheeks, smoothed his thumbs over his chilled cheeks, bent his head down and kissed him once, lightly, on the lips.

Fraser tilted his head to return the kiss, but Ray was already taking a step back. His eyes were very soft.

Ray couldn't help but chuckle. "Your nose is a little nippy."

Fraser felt the tip of his nose and blushed somewhat embarrassed. He was rarely cold. "It is still chilly in here."

"I want to do it right this time, Ben." Ray said as he made his way back to his barstool on the opposite of the island.

"I don't know how," Fraser admitted. "I've never done this before. Not... not really."

Ray sat opposite Fraser again, then held out a hand. Fraser took it and stared down at the long fingers. "We'll go slow," Ray said softly as he gave Fraser's fingers a reassuring squeeze. "Last time I was in love with someone," Ray said, "I was a kid. Best time was when I courted her. Hung around waiting in the rain to see her safe to her door."

Fraser stroked the back of Ray's hand with his thumb. Ben never anticipated or expected anyone to love him like that. 'I'd never had that,' he thought sadly. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I want to do the same for you. Can I?"

Fraser looked up, startled by the image of Ray seeing him safely to his door after a date. Something about it seemed both silly and romantic at the same time. Two grown men, conducting a teenage romance. But… _yes_. "Yes," he said through an affectionate smile. He would like that. The sweet dance of it.

Ray squeezed his fingers, then sighed as he let go. "I don't know what we're gonna do about Vecchio, though."

"What do you mean?" Fraser took a swallow of tea to try and warm up.

"You know what I mean. He's been messing with us, and he doesn't even know about ' _Us'_ yet. And even though Vecchio isn't officially back, the guy insists on hanging out in the bullpen all day like he has nothing better to do. He should be at home resting, not annoying me all day."

"Ray, I'm sure he isn't hanging around for the sole purpose of annoying you."

"Yeah, keep defending him." Ray shook his head, exasperated, but still smiling. "Freak."

So much for romance.

Ray reached across the countertop and took hold of Fraser's hands. "I'm glad you decided to come back." He reached up and ghosted his fingers down Fraser's bruised cheek. "How's the jaw?"

Fraser smiled warmly, already forgiving Ray for the sucker punch. "I think I'll live."

"You know, it's still pretty cold in here. Why don't you come stay at my place?" Ray offered.

Fraser contemplated the offer then sighed. What would it look like to Vecchio if he turned down his offer only to go home with Kowalski instead. It would look like Fraser was picking sides and and he didn't want to give Vecchio any more fuel to ignite the already burning blaze. "Thank you, Ray, but I'd better stay here. Besides, I promised Ray I would be over early for breakfast to catch up."

"So what? You can still get up early at my place. I'll even drop you off so you don't have to walk or call a cab. And, you can catch up with him all you like. He still lied to me about your flight being cancelled because he wants you all to himself. Not only is it rude, but it's really creepy. " Kowalski toyed with his coffee mug not satisfied with Fraser's reasoning. "And you're a grown man, he's a grown man. He needs to actually grow up and let you have more than one friend."

"Well, yes, that's true," Fraser agreed. "And potentially it could be creepy if Ray liked me that way, which I assure you he doesn't. But it's more likely that we misunderstood something and…"

"Whatever, Ben. Vecchio may be a great guy and all but he sure hasn't been acting like it."

Fraser nodded in agreement. _'Ben,_ ' Fraser smiled fondly. That would take some getting used to hearing.

"Come on, Ben, it's still freezing in here," Ray whined as his body automatically shivered. "It's gonna take hours for this place to warm up enough to be bearable. You said yourself you were tired and needed some sleep. You can't possibly sleep very well when it's cold." He rubbed his hands up and down his arms to try and warm himself. "Please, it's the least I can do for not picking you up at the airport and for you know…" Ray motioned to his own jaw sympathetically, "cracking you upside the head with my fist."

"If I went home with you, I'm not sure we'd get much sleep."

Ray cocked his head in a teasing manner. "You say that like it's a bad thing?"

Fraser blushed. "It is still quite cold," Fraser agreed, subconsciously feeling the tip of his nose again. "You sure you don't mind?"

"Are you kidding? Not at all." Ray scanned the kitchen. "Hey, where's Dief?"

"He's stuck in quarantine for two days."

"Oh, I bet he's just _loving_ that."

"You know Dief. Give him a couple of doughnuts and a slice of pizza and all will be forgiven."

"Come on," Ray gestured towards the door. "Grab your bag and let's get out of here."

Fraser was right, they didn't get much sleep.

* * *

Fraser hid a yawn behind his hand as he juggled the box of pastries. He knew once he got into Ray Kowalski's car, he wouldn't get much sleep. Ray had offered him his bed, but Fraser declined, claiming the sofa would be sufficient. He was ready to fall asleep, the day finally catching up with him, but found himself immersed in deep conversation with Ray instead.

Fraser rang the doorbell and yawned again. He should have accepted the cup of coffee from Ray before he left his apartment. He secretly hoped the rest of the Vecchio clan wasn't home. He wanted to visit with his friend, not the whole family. Not that he didn't enjoy their company as well on occasion, but today, he preferred it to be a little… _quieter_. Ray Vecchio's family could leave someone feeling quite overwhelmed with their chaotic presence.

The door before him swung open wide and a beaming Ray Vecchio appeared before him. "Benny!" Vecchio exclaimed as he pulled Fraser into a hug. " _Finally_. I've been up for hours."

Fraser stole a glance at his watch. "It's still quite early, Ray."

"Yeah well, I don't sleep much anymore." Ray stepped back into the house allowing Fraser entry into his home.

"I picked up some pastries on my way."

"Benny," Vecchio read the label on the box and frowned. "These are from that bakery clear on the other side of the city. How'd you get them?"

Fraser discarded his jacket and hung it on the hook in the corner of the hallway. "Oh, Ray offered to take me this morning before he went into the station."

"You've seen Kowalski already?" Vecchio questioned trying not to let the jealousy he was feeling creep into his voice.

"Yes. He was at the Consulate when you dropped me off last night. Apparently the furnace had gone out and Turnbull contacted him to see if he could repair it."

"What the hell happened to your face?"

"Oh that." Fraser replied embarrassed as he rubbed at his jawline. "Ray punched me."

" _What_?"

"He apparently thought I was an intruder. I'm lucky he didn't shoot me." A yawn slipped out before he could stop it. He didn't even notice Vecchio flinch.

'Didn't shoot me... Is that some kind of dig, Benny?' No, Vecchio tried to brush it away. 'Benny wouldn't do that deliberately.' He knew that in his head. The thought of it still didn't sit well.

"Oh, I see how it is." Vecchio stepped back and crossed his arms against his chest, annoyed. "You stayed up all night talking to _him_ instead."

"Ray, please," Benny hung his head, looking disappointed. "I came here to visit with you, not argue about Ray. I was hoping in my time away, the two of you would have seen past your differences and learned to at the very least tolerate each other."

"Tolerate? He's an asshole, Benny."

"Oh really? _He's_ the asshole?" Fraser didn't have any trouble letting the profanity roll off his tongue.

Vecchio was taken aback. Fraser cursing? Even if he was just repeating what Ray had just said. 'Wow, Benny's changed these last two years. No doubt influenced by Kowalski. God I hate that man even more now.'

"Is that why you told him that my flight had been cancelled?" Fraser demanded, irritation filling his voice.

"That was…" Vecchio began to laugh but turned it into a cough instead when Fraser glared at him. "That was just a joke." Vecchio huffed out. "If he can't take a joke, there's something wrong with him." He took the box of pastries from Fraser and went into the kitchen. "Come on Benny, it's been two years since we've been able to have a normal conversation. I wanted to spend some time with you. You've spent the last two years with the jerk. You could at least have given me one night."

"It was my intention to stay at the Consulate last night, Ray, but it was much too cold. Even after Ray had fixed the furnace, it was taking too long for it the place to warm up."

"You stayed with him?" Vecchio tried to reign in his growing resentment. "You could have called me you know… and stayed here." Ray knew he was being unreasonable.

Fraser sighed and stared hard at his friend. "What's this all about? There's no reason for you to be jealous of him."

"I'm not jealous of him."

"Then what would you call it? You told him my flight had been cancelled. Why? Just so you could pick me up instead?"

"You're _my_ friend and no way was I letting him pick you up instead of me."

Fraser smiled with fond exasperation. On the one hand, Vecchio's friendly affection was endearing, on the other, his insecurity and jealousy were not things Fraser had expected from his friend. It worried Fraser that Ray was acting like, well he didn't want to say _'jerk_ ' but he couldn't pick a more fitting word at the moment. Maybe the last two years had changed his friend as well. "Ray, you are no less my friend now, than you were when you left here two years ago."

"Well, it feels like I've been replaced."

"I assure you, you've not been replaced." Fraser made his way over to where Vecchio was leaning against the counter. "You are still my best friend. But you have to understand that Ray is also my friend."

"Benny, do you understand how lonely it was for me? How I worried about you and my family every single day?"

"I can't even imagine what you went through."

Vecchio pulled some plates out of the cupboard and served up the pastries. "How about some coffee?" Vecchio changed the subject quickly. "You look like you missed your cup this morning."

"That would be much appreciated, thank you."

"Welsh won't let me come back yet," Vecchio admitted to the coffee pot, unwilling to meet Fraser's eyes.

"You've been through quite an ordeal, Ray," Fraser said softly. "You were undercover with the mob for God's sake. That's not something that you can just walk away from without it changing you in some way." 'Oh God,' Fraser felt like such a schmuck. 'Of course he's a changed man.' "And then you were shot. Protecting me again."

"Would you ever do it?" Vecchio asked.

"Go undercover with the mob?" Fraser pondered the question carefully. "No, I don't think I could. I'm not that brave."

' _Not that brave?_ ' Vecchio thought bitterly. _'Walking towards someone with a loaded gun is the norm for you. You mean you couldn't be that corrupt.'_ "It's not for everyone."

"But here you are. You're alive and well..."

Vecchio made a face and subconsciously rubbed at his shoulder.

Fraser winced. "Well, you're recovering, that's the important thing."

"You know what they're making me do before I can come back?"

"Get along with Ray?" Fraser joked.

"Funny. No, counseling. Can you _believe_ that? I gave them two years of my life and they want _me_ to go through counseling to readjust to life. Those federal jackasses should have to go through counseling for even suggesting I go undercover."

"It's not a bad idea. You had to become someone you're not, do things you would have never done as yourself." Fraser took a sip of his coffee, turning the mug in his hands. "You know, you can talk to me as well, if you'd like."

"Benny," Ray didn't know how to continue. _'You don't want to know the things I've done.'_ For a moment Ray nearly recoiled at the remembered crunch of fingers breaking. Then, thank God, it was gone.

"You don't need to give me details if that makes you uncomfortable. I'm not here to judge you. I'm your friend, Ray."

' _You wouldn't be if you knew the shit I had to do to stay alive._ ' Vecchio took a long swallow of his own coffee. "Thanks, but I'll be fine. So, enough about me. How have you been?"

"Well, you can imagine my confusion when I returned from the North and found a completely different Ray in your place."

Ray laughed. "I can just see the look on your face, Benny." The laugh lines disappeared and Vecchio sobered as he fiddled with the spoon in the sugar bowl. "You understand why I couldn't tell you, right?"

"Yes." Fraser met Vecchio's green eyes. "I didn't have a clue at first. But after that first day, Lieutenant Welsh finally filled me in on the situation. I was scared for you, Ray. But I somehow knew that you'd pull through and that we would both survive." Fraser huffed out a small laugh. "And that _look..._ lasted a full day." He rubbed his forehead as if he were reliving the day itself, going back in time. "That was a hell of a day. Started off with me coming home to find my apartment burned to the ground." Fraser looked up from his coffee. Ray was pacing on the opposite side of the island. "Ray, why don't you help me look for another apartment today."

"What?" Vecchio asked surprised.

"Would you help me look for an apartment today?" Fraser repeated himself.

"Of course, Benny." Vecchio held up a finger and shook his head. "One rule though, we go for a better neighborhood this time around."

"Understood, Ray."

* * *

"This would have been a lot easier if you would've just let me drive." Vecchio grumbled as he fished a pebble out of his shoe.

"I'm sorry, but since I don't own a car, I wanted to make sure the apartment I chose was within easy walking distance from both the Consulate and the police station. If you had driven, it wouldn't have given me accurate times."

"And why _don't_ you have a car?" Vecchio stuffed his gloved hands into his armpits to stay warm. "You've been here almost four years, Fraser. You should get a car."

"Can we focus on finding me an apartment first?"

"Whatever floats your boat, but if you're staying in Chicago, we're getting you a car." Vecchio fell into step behind Fraser as he studied the address to the next apartment. "Why _don't_ you have an apartment?"

"What?" Fraser tried dodging the question. "I don't know."

" _You_ … not know? Surely there's a reason besides ' _I didn't have the time_ '," Vecchio pushed. "Come on, it's cold. Let's stop for a cup of coffee."

Fraser trudged on through the slushy mess on the sidewalk, ignoring his friend's request.

"Okay, fine. We'll stop at the next cafe we come across." Vecchio cursed the slop he was forced to walk through. Another pair of shoes ruined. "Come on, Benny, why didn't you ever get a place of your own?"

"Does it really matter?" Fraser uncharacteristically snapped.

"No. I'm just curious. Everyone keeps telling me you slept on a cot in your office for two years. There's gotta be a reason." Vecchio hopped over a muddy pile of snow. "Oh come on, you can tell me."

Fraser stopped suddenly and spun around to face his friend. "I wasn't sure I was going to stay."

"What? Why? Just because your apartment burned down?"

Fraser knuckled his eyebrow and glanced at the passing cars in the street. "No, not just because of my apartment. I came back and you were gone. And in your place was this extremely high strung person who was trying so desperately hard to be you."

"He didn't try very hard."

"You weren't here, Ray. How would you know?"

"Well from what I saw when I got back, it's like he tried blowing my cover instead." Vecchio paused and studied his friend. "But then you didn't leave. You stayed. So what changed?"

"Like I said, it doesn't matter."

"It does matter. Again, you had the opportunity to go back home and stay. You were a national hero. You could have gone anywhere you wanted in Canada but instead you chose to come back to Chicago."

"Didn't you want me to come back?"

"Of course I wanted you to come back, but that's not what I said."

"Ray, you're my friend. I missed you. I missed our friendship. I wanted to work with you again."

"And you would have missed Kowalski."

"Of course, he's my friend as well."

"More than me?" Vecchio pressed. 'Jeez, what am I? A ten year old little girl? Even Frannie was never this bad...'

"Missed him more than you? My God, Ray, please. I didn't come back to pick favorites." Fraser stopped in front of a cafe and pulled open the door for his friend. "Why is it so hard for the two of you to get along?"

Vecchio stepped around Fraser and the open door. "I just don't like him." He was about to step into the cafe when a man walked out abruptly, running into Ray and spilling his cup of coffee down the front of Ray's coat.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Vecchio yelped as he took a swift step backwards into the street. "Watch where you're fucking going." He swiped his gloved hands down the front of his coat dislodging the muddy colored mixture that smelled a lot like a mocha latte. "Jesus, you've ruined my coat."

"Excuse me? _You_ ' _re_ the one that just came charging through the door not looking where _you_ were going."

Fraser studied the man. "Mark?"

"Mark?" Vecchio repeated and stared hard at the man. He didn't look like the guy Vecchio remembered. Mark Smithbauer was clean cut and pulled together. This guy, Vecchio gave him an up and down glance, looked like he was down on his luck. Although he was every bit as big as Fraser, maybe slightly taller, solid muscles hiding under his long tattered coat, he wore a shabby beard. He had a solid black stocking hat pulled down over his ears hiding the rest of his head, in no way matching the coat he was wearing. If this was Smithbauer, he'd had a rough couple of years. Vecchio almost felt sorry for him, until he glanced down at the coffee dripping off the hem of his own Armani ruined coat and remembered what a jerk the guy was. "As in hockey player Mark Smithbauer?" He shook his head disapprovingly and pressed a wet glove into Fraser's shoulder. "No, Benny. Don't you remember? This man is nothing but trouble."

"What are you doing in Chicago?" Fraser ignored Vecchio's complaints and suddenly volatile behavior. He was surprised at his friend's shabby appearance as well.

"Ben Fraser. Wow. You're the _last_ person I expected to see here. I've been watching the news. You're a national hero now. I figured, you would've gone back home. And stayed."

"No, I've uh, I've decided to stay in Chicago. Are you here for an event?"

"Me? No, I've got some personal business to take care of this week. Should be here a few more days. You still at your old place? We could get together and shoot some pucks."

"No, I'm actually out apartment hunting at the moment. My other apartment…" Vecchio rolled his eyes when it looked like Fraser was going to go into a long explanation. "Never mind, it's not important. You can find me at the Consulate throughout the day if you want to stop in."

"Benny, do you remember what happened the last time you saw this guy?"

"Mark," Fraser again ignored Vecchio's rant. "You remember my good friend Ray Vecchio?"

"Of course." Mark looked at his watch and and then down the sidewalk quickly. "Look, I hate to run but I've got some things I need to take care of. It was good to see you again, Ben."

"Good seeing you as well. You will stop in before you leave town?" Fraser questioned.

"Count on it. Not sure we'll be able to find a frozen pond this time of year, but I'd put down good money that I can still beat you on the ice."

"Benny doesn't gamble," Ray stated matter of fact. "And from what I remember about the last time you showed up, you shouldn't be either."

"Ray," Fraser pushed a hand into Vecchio's chest, stopping him from getting in Mark's face. "Please, let's leave the past where it belongs."

"Tomorrow afternoon," Mark continued talking calmly, as though Vecchio hadn't said a thing. "I'll be at the rink shooting pucks if you can get away."

"I'm sure I can rearrange my schedule, if need be. I'll bring, Ray. He'd love to play."

"No, no, no... _I'm_ not playing hockey." Vecchio huffed out a laugh. "Did you see me last time I tried to play hockey with the two of you?"

"Oh dear," Fraser looked embarrassed. "I meant the other Ray. He actually enjoys hockey. I thought perhaps he might like to join us."

"What? I'm not good enough to play hockey with you?"

"No, Ray that's not it at all. I just know that you don't enjoy it very much and I would never ask you to partake in something you don't enjoy."

"Because I can give it another try," Vecchio backpedaled.

"Ben," Mark stepped in front of Vecchio cutting him off. "I really need to get going if I'm going to make my meeting. I'll be at the rink around four tomorrow afternoon." He shot Vecchio a glare over his shoulder. "Bring whichever Ray you want." Smithbauer clapped Fraser on the shoulder as he tossed his nearly empty cup into the trash can behind Vecchio.

"Don't worry about my ruined coat," Vecchio shouted to Mark's retreating back. "I'll take care of the dry cleaning bill myself. Asshole." Vecchio muttered as he let out an exasperated sigh.

Fraser frowned at his friend's behavior. "I'll pay for your dry cleaning, Ray. It was an accident."

"You aren't paying for anything, Benny. Did _you_ spill coffee down the front of my coat? No. Jesus, now I have to go home and add this coat to the ruined pile. Like it isn't already big enough," he muttered under his breath.

"He didn't mean it, Ray."

"Whatever, he should have been watching where he was going." Vecchio looked down at himself and grumbled.

"Would you like to go back to your place and change?" Fraser offered. "We can resume looking for an apartment another day? Or I can carry on without you."

"Oh no." Vecchio shook his finger with defiance. "We are finding you a place _today_. Moving you out of that tiny little office you call home and into a real place." Vecchio took a deep breath and collected himself. "I'll run home, change my coat and get my car so we can speed things up. I'll just meet you at the next place on your list."

"If you're sure, Ray."

"Oh, I'm sure."

Fraser handed Ray the piece of paper that contained the addresses of potential apartments. "Here, you'll need this."

"Okay, give me about twenty minutes or so and I'll be there."

"Thank you, Ray. I appreciate your help."

* * *

Vecchio pushed open the door to the empty apartment. Just the outside of the building was more pleasing to the eye than Fraser's last place. He was relieved to not have to step over a couple dozen bums on the way to the third floor. And this place, the elevator _actually_ worked. He whistled in appreciation as he stepped over the threshold and scanned the open concept room. "Benny?" he called, searching for his friend. "Please tell me you've already signed a lease for this place." He poked his head over the counter and glanced around the kitchen. "This place is actually clean and ready to move into. You wouldn't have to spend a month and a year's worth of your salary on cleaning supplies just getting it livable. Benny? Where are you?"

"I'm in the bedroom, Ray."

"Bedroom? Of course you are." Vecchio muttered. "Probably having a party in there to celebrate actually _having_ a bedroom. We'll make an American of him yet."

"Do you think this place is too big, Ray?" Fraser asked as he stepped backwards out of the bedroom, hands shoved deep in his jean's pockets to keep warm. "It's much larger than my last place and I don't really need a lot of space." Fraser quirked a smile. "Well, we may require more room if you stay over."

"It's bigger because it has an actual room to sleep in, Benny. Your bed won't have to serve as your couch anymore." Vecchio replied as he spun around, arms stretched wide to indicate all the open space. He stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes fell on Ray Kowalski.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Vecchio barked. Kowalski just smirked at the irate Italian.

"Well," Ben said helpfully, looking back and forth between his two friends, "Ray's helping me choose an apartment."

"I thought _I_ was doing that," Vecchio snapped.

"You are. But Ray wanted to help as well. And, given that he may be staying here on occasion, I wanted his opinion too."

"What do you mean he'll also be staying here? You couldn't find a better roomie? And besides, there's only _one_ bedroom." Vecchio's face fell. " _Oh. My. God_. No. No. No. Please don't say it." Vecchio held a palm up in the air. "There's only one bedroom, Benny."

"Yes, Ray. We have already established that." Fraser looked genuinely puzzled. Vecchio wasn't buying it for a minute.

"You couldn't think of a better way to let me in on your little secret? You and _Kowalski_ , Benny?"

"You got a problem with that, Vecchio?" Kowalski barked out.

"No, I got a problem with _you_ , Stanley."

"Yeah?" Kowalski stepped up into Vecchio's space, jerking his chin defiantly. "And what's that then?"

Fraser huffed out a frustrated sigh. "You two are acting like a couple of three year olds. What is _wrong_ with you?"

"He started it!" both men hollered at the same time.

Fraser rolled his eyes. "Who's hungry?" he said, changing the subject with an air of forced cheerfulness. He wasn't fooling anybody. Both Rays knew something was up.

"Why are you asking?" Kowalski narrowed his eyes, somewhat suspiciously.

"I'm hungry," Fraser declared. He cleared his throat. "Ray, would you mind getting us all a pizza?"

"Uh, yeah, sure." 'He probably wants to talk to the mad fuck without me in the room.'

"None of that pineapple crap, Stanley."

"Double pineapple? Got it." With a cheeky wink Ray swung out the door, letting it fall shut with a slam. Fraser winced, then turned to the problem at hand.

Ray Vecchio was glaring at him, arms folded across his chest.

"What, Benny?" he said. "I know when I'm being played. What've you got to say to me that you don't want _Stanley_ to hear?"

"It's not something he doesn't already know," Fraser blew out a breath. "And his name is _'Ray'_ , Ray. You should find it easy to remember, since you share the same name."

"What else do we share, Benny, huh? I thought I was your friend."

"You are my friend. My best friend. And as my friend I'm asking you to get along with him." He took a deep breath. "I lost you once, not by choice and I don't want to lose you again. But if you continue to treat Ray with such contempt, then I will have no choice."

"You'd choose him over me?"

"You'd choose your anger over me?"

Ray paused. Was that what he was doing? Letting anger get between him and Benny? Why did it bother him that Fraser had found someone to love? At least Stanley, no, _'Ray'_ , at least he wasn't going to try to ruin his life, or burn his house down. God he hoped not at least. And why _was_ he so angry at the guy?

"Okay, Benny," he said, shamefaced. "I'm just... I'm sorry, okay?"

Fraser stared at him, his face tight.

Ray cringed. 'He's not going to let me off easy then.'

"What are you apologizing for?" Fraser asked. "I need to hear you say it."

Ray bristled. What did Benny want? Him to sign a confession in blood?

"I'm sorry I went to Vegas, okay? I'm sorry you rubbed off on me and I got this crazy urge to save the world."

"So, you are not in fact sorry for how you treat Ray?"

"Look, I'm trying, Benny. I didn't expect to come back and find you here at all. I thought I was… I don't know. _Trapping_ you in Chicago or something. I know, stupid. But I thought if I wasn't here, you'd go back to the Armpit of the Frozen North you love so much. I thought you'd be getting on with your life, shacking up with some Eskimo babe and making lots of little Mounties. And I get back and…" he threw his hands up in dismay. "And you're still here. _You moron_. What is _wrong_ with you? Don't you have any sense? You stayed in this dump of a place instead of going home. And I know that it has to be killing you because it was killing you when I was still here. And..." he pointed at the door. "And it's Kowalski that's keeping you here. You wonder why I hate him? Why'd you have to go and like the guy so much?" Ray turned around angrily looking for a place to sit. "Who am I kidding? You like everyone. Why wouldn't you like him too?"

"You hate him?" Fraser was taken aback. He knew his Rays didn't like each other, but _hate_?

"No! Yes. I mean..." Ray ran his hands over his face. He knew he made no sense. "I wanted you to leave so I knew you'd be safe. You're not safe here. And you're not safe for him either."

"What do you mean I'm not safe for him?"

"Have you met _you_ , Benny?" Ray asked exasperated. " _None_ of your friends are safe. It's like there's a constant bullseye on your back."

"Why would you even care then? Huh? If you hate Ray so much?"

"I care because _you_ care, Benny. And I know what it would do to you if anything happened to _him_. Because…"

"Because what?"

"Because it would do the same thing to me if anything happened to you. It would tear me apart."

"So what? I shouldn't have friends or love someone for that matter because you're afraid something bad will happen to me?"

Something bad always happened. Especially when love was involved. Look what happened last time Benny fell for someone. Look what happened every damn time Ray fell for someone. God, he hated the Feds. He'd never have met her if...

"Ray?"

He shook himself out of it and sighed. "Look, I never said it was rational."

" it's not. Ray and I are grown men. We can make our own decisions."

And that was the _real_ problem, wasn't it? He'd always treated Fraser, _'Benny'_ , as a _child_. But Fraser was right. He _was_ a grown man who could make his own decisions.

"I'm sorry, Fraser," he said, sincerely this time. "I just... I got scared for you. Wasn't sure you could survive Chicago without my help. I honest to God didn't think I would ever make it back and I finally did and… it was like you hadn't missed me at all. Hadn't needed me. You stayed here and got on just fine without me. Thrived even."

"Didn't miss you? Are you unhinged?" Fraser couldn't help but let a small smile slip at his use of Kowalski's idiom.

Ray glared from across the room seemingly irritated with the smirk. "And then I walk in here and find out…" Ray took a deep breath. He wasn't sure he could even get the words to form on his tongue. "Find out this about you." He paced in tight circles, looking again for somewhere to sit down, some way to be grounded, but there was nowhere to sit. Nowhere to just _be_. Story of his life these days. He kept pacing. "I came back and everything's fucking changed and I don't know where I fit in anymore. Frannie's calling Kowalski ' _bro_ ' and Ma keeps asking me to invite her other ' _son_ ' over for dinner and… it's too much change, Benny. _Too much!"_

"I'm sorry, Ray," Fraser said gently. "You have to realize that life couldn't stand still in Chicago while you were away. We had to carry on in order to protect _you_."

"Did he have to take over my whole fucking life to save it?"

"Ray, that's not what happened." Fraser's voice was maddeningly calm, like Ma soothing a toddler throwing a tantrum. Resentment rose up in Ray. How was he supposed to get through this brick wall of kindness? He folded his arms across his chest, trying to hold his temper in.

"I know you wish things could have stayed the same, but they couldn't. You wouldn't even have wanted them too. Look how much Francesca has grown, how much she has matured? Would you want her to have remained the same?" Fraser had to bite the bullet and ask. "Does my relationship with Ray bother you?"

"No," Ray admitted, grudgingly. "To both questions."

"You said you wanted me to be happy. I _am_ happy. Somewhere along the way, I fell in love with him. Neither of us realized it until it was almost too late. I was faced with the opportunity of staying back home and even though that's where I've wanted to be for many years, I love him. I had to follow him back."

"And he loves you too?" Ray knew he was being paranoid, but Fraser didn't have the best track record when it came to being in love. He couldn't bear for Kowalski to be another Victoria. He didn't even really know the guy yet, wouldn't allow himself to get to know him.

Not that he would be another Victoria… even Benny couldn't be that unlucky twice. He knew that, but even so, Ray couldn't help but fear for Benny. Who for all he thought he was so clever... _was so stupid in love_.

"No, Ray. It's mutual. He cares about me just as much as I care about him. He will _never_ replace you as my best friend," Fraser reiterated. "But it's very important to me that the two of you find some common ground somewhere. Can you do that?"

Vecchio took a deep breath and held it for what seemed like an eternity. He breathed out, his breath frosty in the chilly room. "For you, Benny, if that what it takes to keep from losing you again. I'll try my damndest."

Fraser walked up to his friend and pulled him into a fierce hug. "Thank you, Ray. That means a lot to me."

Vecchio stepped back and wiped his eyes, brimming with unshed tears. "Look, nobody _needs_ a lot of space, but it'll be nice to be able to come over and not have to sit on your lap to watch TV. And I'm sure as hell not sitting on Kowalski's lap."

Fraser squeezed his friend on the shoulder. "I'd never ask that of you, Ray."

"Good, as long as we got that out in the open."

"And my other place wasn't _that_ small."

"Okay, so maybe I was exaggerating a bit." Vecchio crossed his arms across his chest in a defensive gesture. "You really going to take Kowalski with you to play hockey with that jerk Smithbauer?"

"Sure. Why not?" Fraser said as he flipped on the light in the small bathroom and smiled at the thought of having his own facilities. "He enjoys the sport very much. I think he'd enjoy it. You know, you are welcome to join us as well."

Vecchio pondered Fraser's offer for all of a split second. "Maybe I _will_."

"So? You two done talking about me behind my back?" Kowalski poked his head through the apartment door to check if it was safe to return.

Vecchio and Fraser looked guilty and Ray laughed. He wasn't too worried. He could tell something had cleared the air.

"Never mind," he slid the half pineapple pizza onto the nearby counter. Glancing at Fraser he asked, "You made your mind up yet?"

"He'll take it," Vecchio offered and clapped Fraser on the shoulder.

Fraser smiled warmly at his friend and nodded in agreement. "Yes, I'll take it."

* * *

"When can you pick up Dief?" Kowalski asked as he signed the bottom of his report, stapled it to the inside of a manila folder and tossed it in his empty ' _done'_ basket.

"The airport rules state it has to be a full forty-eight hours that he be held in quarantine."

Kowalski made a face. "Translation, please."

Fraser rolled his wrist to check the time. "Not for another five hours."

"When do you sign the lease for the apartment?" Kowalski asked as he signed off on another report. Welsh was gonna love him today.

"I signed it this morning. Ray needed something to keep him busy so he helped me move a few things in already." Fraser picked a yellow pencil out of Kowalski's pen holder and began worrying the already rough surface between his fingers. He crinkled his nose when he realized the rough surface was caused from someone's teeth. The pencil was still damp. _Really damp._ _'Gross,'_ he wanted to gag. Even he had things that turned his stomach. And this pencil wasn't Ray's. He never used the things, always complaining about broken lead and missing erasers. No, Ray Kowalski was a pen guy. Fraser dropped the pencil on the desktop, wishing he had some hand sanitizer.

"What's wrong?" Kowalski questioned as he finished off another report and added it to the growing stack. Frannie was going to hate him. She was going to have to file all of these at the end of the day. Her least favorite job. Ray was hoping he could get a few more done, just to irritate her.

Fraser wrinkled his nose as he pointed at the pencil. "Whose pencil is that?"

"Don't know." Kowalski stated bluntly, not tearing his eyes away from his current report. All this one needed was his signature. He tapped his pen against the paper. His attention span while Fraser was gone, really _had_ been short. "Probably Dewey's. He's always stealing my pens and leaving his shitty pencils behind. Every few weeks I clean that thing out and dump them back on his desk." Ray opened his top drawer, moved a few things around and fished out a small bottle of the sanitizer. He tossed it to his partner and smirked. "Makes me want to gag as well."

"Thank you." Fraser squeezed a generous amount into his palm and rubbed his hands together vigorously.

Ray couldn't help but let a chuckle break loose. "So, besides the pencils, what's wrong?"

"Oh, I'm uh… I'm just worried about Ray." Fraser began to fiddle with the box of paperclips beside Ray's notepad. He hooked them together end to end, forming a small chain.

Kowalski glanced up and raised an eyebrow at Ben's uncharacteristic gesture. "Why? What's going on?"

"I don't really know. Maybe nothing, but I have this niggling feeling..." Fraser cleared his throat. He felt guilty talking about Ray Vecchio. He was his friend, he should be able to talk to the man himself. But Vecchio seemed to have put up some sort of wall since returning to Chicago and Fraser needed to talk to someone. And there was nobody he trusted more than Ray Kowalski. And besides, Kowalski probably knew Vecchio better than anyone else. He had, after all, been him for two years.

"Go on, Ben. Spit it out."

Fraser glanced around the bullpen. It was fairly empty, but he dropped his voice anyway. "Did you know he offered to put a deposit down on my apartment?"

"He did?" Kowalski made a face. "What's that about?"

"I'm not sure." Fraser shrugged his shoulders confused as well. "He's got this idea that I can't afford it or something. I don't know. He's just being rather... what is the term you'd use? Flashing his cash?"

"You mean he's throwing his money around?" Ben nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah, I noticed that too. Didn't want to say anything, he already doesn't like me. Sure did order you some monster of a couch, though hasn't he? You worried he's got a problem?"

"Well, while I am sure the Federal Government will have adequately recompensed him for his time in Vegas, I can't believe that he has an unlimited supply of money."

Ray frowned. "You know, maybe I'm being paranoid, but what if he does?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he _was_ the Bookman. Vecchio must have known what he was doing because he _actually_ pulled it off without getting himself killed. I don't think anyone gave him enough credit. You think he..."

"Are you suggesting that Ray… _No_." Fraser's face was flushed. He was angry, though whether with himself for thinking it or Ray for verbally suggesting it, he didn't know.

"I'm just saying, Ben. If _I'd_ been undercover with the Mob, I'd try to make sure my family was taken care of if… _you know_ , just in case I didn't make it back."

Fraser blinked. "Oh."

"Oh? Oh what?"

"That explains a lot."

Ray gestured expressively. "What are you talking about, Ben?"

"Well, Ray has been rather generous lately. I am not suggesting he is a stingy man by nature, but he always had to be very careful with money..."

"I know. I had to pay the bills for him while he was away."

"Well then, in that case you understand his financial realities."

"Yeah, his family spends his paycheck before he even gets it cashed. You know how many times I wanted to tell Tony to get his finger out of his ass and go get a job? Tell him and Maria to gather up their clan and find their own place to live? Quit bleeding him dry? At least I could get away from them. He's stuck with them all the time. No wonder he's such a jackass."

"Hmmm."

Ray groaned and dropped his head forward. "You think he stole from the mob, don't you?"

"I wouldn't say that..."

"What _would_ you say?"

Fraser rubbed his face. "I'd say I'm worried about him."

* * *

"You need help lacing those skates?" Kowalski teased as Vecchio struggled with the dingy strings.

"Who gave me the pair with the fifteen knots in them anyway?" Vecchio grumbled as he struggled to undo the knots. Ray contemplated putting the laces between his teeth to work the knots loose, but thought better of it. He wasn't Benny afterall. There were certain things that absolutely did not go in the mouth. Borrowed skates with nasty laces was one of them. Ray let his back fall against the lockers behind him and glared at Kowalski and Fraser. Both were already suited up in their borrowed pads, skates laced and tied tight. "You sure you two really want me to play?" He finally got his left foot in the skate and tried to undo the knots on the other. "Because I can just sit and watch."

"Of course we want you to play."

"Yeah, me too." Kowalski piped up and smiled wide. "You can play goalie and I can practice my shooting skills."

"Funny, smart ass," Vecchio quipped as he struggled with the boot lace again. He contemplated throwing it at Kowalski to knock off the wicked grin that was plastered on his face.

"Did you boys bring your A-game?" Smithbauer asked as he entered the locker room, stomping the slush from the ice off his skate blades. Vecchio tried to push down his automatic distrust of the man. Seemed like he was nothing but suspicion these days. He should really calm down. It's not like he was playing an undercover part in the Mafia anymore. Still, he really didn't like Mark, never had. And the fact that the bastard had got all cleaned up just annoyed him even more. He seemed more like his cheesy slick self, and that couldn't be a good thing. As if to prove Vecchio's suspicions Mark edged up to Fraser's side and slung a heavy arm across his shoulder, drawing him close. "I call dibs on Ben," he said, looking smug.

"You bring your mouthguard?" Kowalski snarled back. He'd just met him and he already didn't like the guy.

"Hey, you can't have two Canadians against two Americans," Vecchio argued.

Kowalski dropped a hand to Vecchio's shoulder and handed Ray his right boot, laces untangled and ready to be slipped on. "No, it's okay, Vecchio. Let him have Ben. I think we'll be able to hold our own. We got this."

Vecchio made a face. "We _do_?" When had Kowalski taken his skate?

"Yeah. Ever hear of Pee-Wee hockey? My team was the best in the league. Yours truly was co-captain of the team."

"Really?" Fraser sounded pleased. "Seems we have met our match then."

"Didn't know that did you, Ben?" Kowalski winked at Fraser. "You're just breaking the surface. There's more to me than meets the eye."

"Oh, so we're gonna have us a real game then, huh?" Mark smirked. "Last time I played with Ben, this guy," Mark pointed an accusing finger at Vecchio, "couldn't even stand up straight."

"Last time, he didn't have me," Kowalski snapped back as he jabbed a thumb into his own chest.

"Yeah, and that was some time ago, Mark." Vecchio's natural competitiveness rose to the surface. "Things change."

"What? You fall on your ass every _other_ minute now?" Fraser was beginning to look increasingly uncomfortable under the heavy presence of Mark's arm. For once, he could understand Vecchio's belligerent and aggressive attitude. Apparently, Mark was making him uneasy as well. At least his Rays appeared to be bonding.

"Didn't you know Benny gave me some lessons?" It had been so long ago that he wasn't sure he remembered everything Fraser had taught him, but dammit he was going to try. "Come on, Kowalski, let's wipe the floor with these two."

Fraser looked somewhere between proud and smug. "Well, I don't think it's very likely that they'll wipe the floor with us, but I think you'll find them harder to beat than you expect, Mark."

"Really?" Mark didn't look convinced. Kowalski flashed a feral grin as he got to to his feet and pushed off onto the ice.

"Come on, Ray," Kowalski tapped Vecchio in the chest with the back of his hand and glared at Mark. "The Canadians could use an ass whoopin'."

In the end, the Americans nearly won.

* * *

"I don't like him." Kowalski stated dryly as he flung his keys onto the counter without a care where they landed. "He stepped over the line and you know it."

"Ray, please." Fraser removed his Stetson and placed it on the counter beside Ray's discarded keys.

"Don't you dare, _'Ray, please'_ , me." Kowalski spun around and snapped back. "How many times did Vecchio tell him that you and I were together, huh? And he _still_ did it!"

"It meant nothing, Ray. Please don't read into anything that isn't there."

"He _fucking_ kissed you!" Kowalski yelled in Fraser's direction startling him. "Oh, I'm sorry, you mean his lips _accidently_ ran into yours? You don't kiss someone unless you mean it, Fraser."

"Did you not see me push him away immediately?" Fraser tried to keep his own anger in check.

"Yeah," Ray replied, the rage momentarily leaving his voice. "Yeah, I did." Ray grinned despite himself. "You really sent him flying. I probably shouldn't have laughed either when Vecchio tripped him with the hockey stick."

Fraser did his best not to smirk. He really shouldn't find it so amusing. 'It's only because it shows my Rays are getting on,' he told himself. Even in his own head it wasn't convincing. "Ray, I don't know why you're still so upset about what might have been a misunderstanding."

"It wasn't a misunderstanding, Ben. He meant it. It wasn't just a quick little peck on the lips. He grabbed the back of your head and wouldn't let go. Did you not see the way he kept looking at you afterwards like he wanted to try it again just to see what I would do or what _you_ would do? That nasty little smile plastered across his smug face?"

"Did _you_ ever think that maybe he was looking to make sure I wasn't upset?"

"He wasn't checking to see if you were upset. He was checking to see if he could get away with doing it again. Why do you always have to see the good in everyone? That guy is a jackass. And it's not just me who thinks it," Kowalski folded his arms. "Just ask Vecchio. This, we can agree on."

"Call it a character flaw." Fraser shrugged when Ray rolled his eyes. "My grandmother was quite persistent in teaching me to look past people's flaws to find their good," Fraser sighed. "It's always stuck with me. I agree that Mark's behavior was out of line. But I do think he realized it."

"You two share anything in the past I should know about?" Ray planted his feet firmly trying to ground himself in the reality that Ben and Mark may have had a previous relationship. He shuddered at the thought. How could Fraser have been involved with such a self centered jerk?

"No." Fraser shook his head at the same time. "Mark had always shown an interest when we were younger, but he was never anything more than my friend." Fraser looked up and met Ray's blue eyes. "There's nothing for you to worry about. I'm sure after today he realizes that I'm not interested and he stepped over the line. Which could be why he suggested we all meet up again for another game."

"Yeah, perhaps. Or maybe he just wants to be able to put his hands all over you and blame it on hockey being a contact sport. You think of that? Huh?"

"Well, when we next meet up, you'll just have to put your hands all over me instead. Just give him another chance, please," Fraser pleaded. It felt like all he had been doing the past two days was asking everyone around him to get along with everyone else. He suddenly felt like the eye of the storm, that he was the reason everyone was bickering. Maybe he shouldn't have come back to Chicago after all.

Ray scowled. "For you, yes. But believe me, if he steps out of line again, I'll kick him in the head."

"I don't doubt it."

"This is fucking great," Ray stated sarcastically. "We're getting off to a fantastic start in our relationship, huh? First, Vecchio tells you that I'm off on some hot date and couldn't be bothered to pick you up at the airport and you semi believe him, then Mark comes swooping in and tries to snag you out from under me, with me right there. Like I don't matter at all." Ray folded his arms across his chest in a defensive gesture.

Fraser gave Ray a lopsided smile. He walked around the breakfast bar and met Ray on the other side. He placed his hands on Ray's forearms and tugged gently. Ray uncrossed his arms and Fraser stepped closer. "Ignore those two, okay?" Fraser slipped a hand behind Ray's neck and pulled him forward. He ghosted his lips over Ray's before settling into the kiss. "You have no idea how much you matter to me."

Ray moaned under Fraser's touch. "God, if I weren't so sore, I'd let you have your way with me."

Fraser chuckled against Ray's cheek. "I was just thinking the same thing." Fraser dropped another kiss to Ray's lips. "Give me a few days and I'll take you up on that offer."

"Oh yeah? And what are we going to do for the next few days then? 'Cause I got to say, waiting kind of sucks."

"Well, I'm sure we can think of something to talk about."

"Oh great." Ray giggled against Fraser's bruised cheek. "It's gonna be Inuit tales..."

"Oh no. I want a Ray tale. So," Fraser took a step back and studied Ray with a tender smile. "Pee-Wee hockey? Would you care to elaborate?"

Ray dropped his head and shrugged his shoulders a little embarrassed. "Something my mom shoved me into one day to keep me from being bored one winter. I kinda liked it, didn't fall on my ass too many times the first time around so I stuck it out. Seems I had a natural knack for it. Kept it up through high school."

"Why did you stop playing if you were good and enjoyed it?"

"Same reason I stopped boxing," Ray shrugged. "Stella didn't like it. I think she was afraid I'd lose too many teeth or something. I don't know. Doesn't mean I stopped liking either one though."

Frase tilted his head to the side and gave Ray a crooked grin exposing that imperfect tooth. "That should have been your first clue things weren't going to work out," he teased playfully. "Never let a woman interfere with your love of a game."

Ray tossed a dish towel in Fraser's direction. "Like you'd know anything about that."

"No, you're right. I let my _grandmother_ interfere instead with my potential hockey career. She was always calling me home to study. Apparently, she didn't see sports as a way to make a living. She made sure I was grounded in reality and always got my studies done first. The other kids would get upset when they'd hear her calling. So Mark became the hockey star instead."

"And look where he is today, a washed up 'wanna-be'."

"Yes," Fraser agreed, sadness filling his voice. "He's made some bad choices along the way." Fraser stroked his thumb down the length of Ray's jawline, touching it lightly to his lower lip. he closed his eyes and sighed, his breath like the ghost of a kiss. "Would you like to have dinner with me?"

They had shared a meal a hundred times over, but this request was different than all the rest. Ray nodded and pulled Fraser's lips to his. "So would this qualify as our first date?"

Fraser grinned against Ray's lips. "I think so, yes."

"You care if I pick the place?" Ray asked as he pulled Fraser closer and wrapped his arms around his neck.

"Not at all."

"Greatness." Ray ran his fingers up the back of Fraser's head and tangled them in his hair. "We'll grab some chinese from that place you like so well across town, then we can go pick up the fur-face." Ray kissed Fraser gently on the lips again and then let out a small laugh. "What do you think Dief will think of us together?"

"I think he will be ecstatic," Fraser pulled Ray closer. "The more time I spend with you, the more junk food he'll think he's entitled to."

* * *

It was starting off to be a great first date, the best Ben had ever had, not that he had had many to compare this one too. He was feeling comfortable, something about being in Ray's presence always made him feel that way. The waiter had seated them three quarters of the way back and to the left of the restaurant. Usually, when the two of them went there, it was always for take-out. They had never made it past the counter. Fraser was surprised to see that the tables were covered with actual linens. Little lamps, powered by tea-lites, picked up the honey colored flecks in Ray's blue eyes, making them sparkle in the low light.

They were about to order their drinks, when Fraser shocked Ray by ordering them a bottle of Catawba wine. "Is wine okay?" he asked as the waiter walked away.

Ray smiled softly. "Yeah, wine's great."

"Good," Ben said as he returned the gesture. "Because normally, you know I don't drink. But I thought tonight, I'd make an exception." Ben was relaxed, smiling more than usual and that Mountie facade was crumbling. Feeling his confidence building, he let his hand stretch out across the table towards Ray's.

Oh damn. Ray wasn't smiling anymore. His face fell and he dropped his gaze to the table cloth.

'What did I do wrong?' Ben thought as he withdrew his hand. 'Did I come on too fast? Maybe I shouldn't have tried to touch him in public, maybe…'

Ray looked up again, past Ben, to somewhere over his shoulder. His eyes were dark and angry. Ben turned to look and went cold.

"Mark," Fraser's voice had an edge to it that Ray couldn't read. Mark had cleaned himself up since their hockey match earlier in the day. Now, not only was the scraggly beard gone, the shabby coat was replaced with a nice sport coat. Mark was out to impress.

Ray clenched his jaw as Mark drew nearer. Every muscle from his fists to his jaw tensed up. He knew what Ben was thinking and said it for both of them.

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?" Kowalski snapped.

Mark plastered a friendly smile on his face, though it wasn't fooling anyone.

"I was meant to be meeting a friend here…" Mark looked at his watch and then around the dining area before moving to pull a spare chair away from a neighboring table. "He seems to have stood me up." He glanced between Ben and Ray. "You don't mind if I join you instead, do you?"

"Well, actually…" Ben looked torn between being polite and simply telling Mark 'no'. Ray had no such worries. Nothing was holding him back from vocalizing his resentment and telling Mark to _'fuck off'_.

"We're on a date here," Ray butted in. He regarded Fraser, who seemed, if anything, to be relieved. "So," he made a shooing motion with his hand, "if _you_ don't mind, we'd like a little privacy."

"Oh." Mark looked put out and returned the chair to the other table. "Well, in that case I suppose I should leave…"

"That would be a good idea," Ray did his best not to snarl or show his teeth as he cut Mark off. If he could drop kick the guy and get away with it he would, but he didn't think Ben would appreciate him causing a scene on their first date.

"Ben, you care if I stop by your place later? I mean... _after_ your date? I really could use someone to talk to."

Fraser looked at Ray and felt like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He swiped a knuckle across his eyebrow. He didn't want to have to cut his evening short with Ray, yet at the same time, Mark looked desperate for a listening ear.

"Can't it wait until tomorrow?" Ray suggested. "We're gonna be tied up all night."

"Ray," Fraser flushed at the unexpected innuendo. "We do have to pick up Diefenbaker at some point this evening. Tomorrow would actually be better, Mark."

"Fine," Mark took a step back, tugging his new jacket into place. "Guess it will just have to wait then."

"He'll be at the Consulate around nine," Ray added when Mark pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. Ray assumed it was to get Fraser's new address. 'Over my dead body,' Ray thought bitterly. "You can meet him there."

Mark dropped the piece of paper to the table in front of Ben and narrowed his eyes at Ray. "I'll see you at nine, Ben. Don't let him keep you out too late." Mark turned and left the two alone.

"Can you believe him?" Ray asked in disgust as he opened his napkin and spread it out over his lap. He snatched up the piece of paper before Fraser could reach for it. It had a phone number scrawled on it in blue pen. No way was he giving it to Fraser. The nerve of that guy. Ray angrily wadded it up into a tight ball and tossed it onto a nearby server's tray with dirty plates. It landed in leftover sweet and sour sauce. Ray smiled triumphantly, although it was short lived. He picked up his spoon and started tapping it against the table top.

Fraser reached across the white linen and put his hand over Ray's, stilling the angry energy that was flowing through Ray's long fingers.

"Don't let him upset you. How about we get our order boxed up, go get Dief, and finish our date back at my place?"

"Why'd he have to come over here and ruin our evening?" Ray fumed as he tried tapping the spoon again.

"He hasn't ruined it," Fraser gave Ray's fingers a reassuring squeeze. "Not if we don't let him." Fraser signaled for the waiter.

"You don't have any plates at your place."

"When have we ever needed plates?" Fraser smiled wide. "We'll pick up a bottle of wine and a couple glasses on the way."

"And what? Have a carpet picnic at your furniture-less apartment?"

"Ah, but my monstrous leather sofa was delivered this afternoon, courtesy of our friend Ray Vecchio."

Ray raised an eyebrow thoughtfully. "Oh yeah?" Ray blew out a breath and dropped his gaze to the table. "I'm sorry, Ben. This isn't how the night was supposed to go." Ray withdrew his hand and tossed his napkin on the table.

"Ray, I don't need to eat dinner in a nice restaraunt in order to have a good first date with you. I just need to be with you. That's all that matters."

"Yeah?" Ray asked unconvinced.

"Yeah." Fraser assured him as he motioned for the waiter again. "We'd like our meals to go if it's not too much trouble."

"Absolutely, Sir. Would you like the wine to go as well? It has been chilled but has yet to be opened."

Fraser looked to Ray who nodded. "It would save us a stop."

"Add it to the bag," Ray agreed as he gave Fraser an affectionate smile.

* * *

It was nearing eleven in the evening and Ray was sprawled down the length of Fraser's massive couch with his head nestled in Ben's lap. They had stopped to pick up Diefenbaker at the airport before returning to Fraser's apartment. Dief explored his new surroundings after licking both Ben and Ray from head to toe, thankful to be released from quarantine. The guys ate their dinner on the couch and talked about their three weeks apart, while finishing off the bottle of wine. Ben didn't drink often, but it didn't seem to have done him any harm. He looked pleasantly mellow, if not a little pink cheeked. When they were finished with dinner, they returned to the sofa.

Fraser played with the blond spikes in Ray's hair, twisting the honey colored strands around his fingertips. Ray lay quietly, enjoying the moment, his feet crossed at the ankles.

"This is nice," Ray murmured as his eyes drifted shut. "I'm gonna have to thank Vecchio for getting you a such a great couch." Ray tried to hide an escaping yawn behind his hand but failed. "I could fall asleep right here."

Fraser ran his thumb across Ray's brow. "You could stay," he suggested. He pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and covered Ray as best as he could.

Ray tugged the blanket up around his shoulders and pulled Fraser's head down for a lingering kiss. "Okay."

Fraser kissed Ray again and let his own head fall against the back of the couch. He kicked his feet up onto the matching ottoman and got comfortable. Dief was curled up on the floor beside the couch, snoring softly. Ben smiled at how well their first date had gone, even with the interruption by Mark. He let his fingers wander through Ray's softened spikes as they both drifted off to sleep.

* * *

A shrill ringing startled Ray awake. He lifted his head and glanced around his surroundings. It took him a few moments to register where he was and where the noise was coming from. He rolled to his side and scrambled to find his discarded cell phone on the floor. He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Fraser was stirring awake beside him as he answered the ringing contraption.

"Yeah?" Ray yawned into the phone, not quite awake or coherent. "This is Kowalski." He looked to his right and Fraser was sitting up slowing, running his fingers through his hair, mussing it up. "Morning," Ray said quietly as he raised a finger to his lips and pointed to the phone. "Welsh," he mouthed, rolling his eyes. He made talking motions with his free hand and Fraser playfully slapped him in the thigh.

"Did you hear anything I just said, Kowalski?" Welsh's voice bellowed through the phone.

Fraser made a face at the Lieutenant's harsh mood so early in the morning. He pointed in the direction of the bathroom.

"Yeah, I heard you. Loud and clear. Dead body, lake, yada yada yada..." Ray rolled his wrist and checked the time. "It's barely seven in the morning," he yawned again. "And it's Saturday. Don't I get a day off?"

"Not today. And being a smart ass won't get you taken off the case either." Welsh barked. "One of Frank Zuko's men washed up on the shore this morning. And since you are one of my best detectives, I picked you for this case. You can have a day off next weekend."

"Gee thanks. Give me a few and I'll be in." Ray groaned as he hung up the phone.

"Lieutenant Welsh seems to be in a fine mood this morning," Fraser said as he returned to the living room.

"That's an understatement," Ray said sarcastically.

Fraser placed his hands on either side of Ray's face and pulled him in for a kiss. "Good morning."

"No fair," Ray chuckled as he broke the kiss. "You already brushed your teeth."

Fraser grinned sheepishly. "We'll pick you up a spare today for the next time you stay over."

"You'll have to go alone. I gotta go into work," Ray grumbled. "Welsh dumped a murder case in my lap."

"Would you like some help?" Fraser offered.

"No, you stay here. I'm sure Vecchio will be over at some point wondering if you want some company. And I did tell Mark that you would be at the Consulate at nine."

"Ah, yes. That's right."

A knock at the door startled both men. Fraser looked at Ray with a questioning look. The only other person that knew where he lived was Ray Vecchio and he doubted he would be over this early in the morning. Fraser moved to the door to answer it as Ray stood up and folded the blanket, returning it to the back of the couch. Ray rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. Fraser smiled affectionately at him. He supposed it was his fault that Ray woke up with a crick in his neck.

"I'm gonna go use the can and splash some water on my face before I head out." Ray threw a thumb over his shoulder and headed to the bathroom.

"Okay," Fraser called to Ray's retreating back. He opened the door to reveal Mark standing on the other side, fist raised, ready to knock again. "Mark," Fraser said, warily. "What are you doing here?"

"Morning, Ben."

"How did you know where I lived?" Fraser folded his arms across his chest.

"Aren't you going to ask me in?"

Fraser stepped back from the door and allowed Mark to enter.

"I'm sorry, but I followed you and Ray last night after you left the restaurant. I really needed to talk to you and didn't want to wait until today. I was going to come back after Ray left last night but I fell asleep in my car."

"Oh. I'd uh, offer you some coffee, but I don't have any of that stuff moved yet."

"That's okay. I'm not really big on the stuff anyway. More of a latte kind of guy."

"Ah yes, you did have a latte when Ray and I ran into you at the cafe."

"Geez, is he still upset about that?"

"Well, it did ruin his coat, so of course he's upset."

"I'll get him a new one."

"That won't be necessary. Ray has already replaced it."

"Oh. Okay." Mark twirled his thumbs together nervously. "Ben, I came over to see if you'd have dinner with me tonight. Maybe give me a chance to see how things would work out between us."

"Mark."

"I know that you're close with Ray and you've known him for what? A few years. You've known me most of your life."

"Mark, I'm sorry, but I'm with Ray and you know I've never shared your romantic feelings."

"Come on, Ben. Just give me a chance, one date."

"I'm sorry," Fraser shook his head. "I just don't share your feelings."

"But I care about you, I always have."

"Then you would respect the feelings I have for Ray."

"How can you be serious about him? He's a cop, where's he going with his life?"

Fraser huffed out a breath in annoyance. "In case you've forgotten, I'm a cop as well."

"But you're a Mountie, that's a lot classier than a regular cop."

"I'm only a Mountie because I'm from Canada. If I were from Chicago, I'd be a detective, just like Ray."

"But you're not from Chicago."

"What's your point?" Fraser's voice had an edge to it that Mark was unfamiliar with. "Ray is perfectly suited for me. We share the same interests, we get along and work well together. He makes me happy."

"I just wish you'd give me one chance to show you that I can make you happy as well."

"I'm sorry, Mark. I can't do that."

"I knew I should have stayed awake and come over when Ray left last night. Maybe I could have convinced you then…"

"Hey! _Ray's_ still here," Ray hollered from the other side of the living room, making his presence known. Dief barked beside him.

Mark flinched in the entrance to the kitchen. He was expecting Fraser to be alone.

"Seriously,Ben. He stayed over?"

"I told you he'd be at the Consulate at nine." Ray pointed to his watch and glared at Mark. "You couldn't wait two more hours?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but _no_."

"Gentleman, please. Let's not argue first thing this morning." Fraser finally closed the door, hoping to shut in the raised voices so his new neighbors didn't call the cops.

"Sorry, Ben," Mark apologized. "Look I can come back later when you're alone."

"What makes you think he's going to be alone?"

"Oh… damn. I really screwed this up, didn't I? I didn't know you two were living together. You should have said something."

Ray was _about_ to say something but shut his mouth when Fraser placed a calming hand on his elbow. No way was he going to work and leaving Mark here alone with Fraser.

"Ray doesn't live here, Mark. He has his own place. But yes, I'm quite serious about him."

"I guess I've missed out on my chance then. I wanted to ask a favor of you, but it looks like now's not the time."

There was another knock at the door, breaking up the mounting tension. Ray rocked back on his heels and folded his arms across his chest. He wasn't going anywhere. 'Welsh can fire me,' he thought as Fraser moved to answer the door to discover Ray Vecchio standing on the other side holding a box of pastries with one hand and a lamp in the other.

"Morning, Benny." Vecchio invited himself in, oblivious to the presence of the other two men in the apartment. "I thought I could help you do some more unpacking today and I brought you a gift to go with the sofa." He handed Fraser the lamp and dropped the box of pastries on the kitchen counter. He turned around when Fraser didn't say anything. "Oh. Looks like you started the party early. Good thing I brought plenty of doughnuts." Vecchio looked from one man to the next. "What'd I miss?"

"Nothing important. Ray was about to head off to work and Mark just came over to talk."

"Never mind, Ben. What I really needed to talk to you about can wait. I'll catch you tomorrow at the rink." Mark turned and pulled open the door and left quickly. Dief barked at Ray's side.

"See," Kowalski said. "Even Dief doesn't like him."

"I'm with Kowalski and Dief on this one, Benny." Vecchio opened up the box of doughnuts and pulled out a long john, offering one to Kowalski. "What does Mark want anyway?"

"Nothing."

"Oh yes he does." Kowalski waved a finger in Fraser's direction. "He wants Ben to go out with him."

"What?" Vecchio asked almost choking on his own pastry. "Seriously?"

"Apparently, yes. But I don't share his feelings."Fraser dismissed the discussion with a flick of his hand. "So the two of you can pack up your super-hero capes. I don't need you to protect me from him."

"Whoa, that's not fair. We're just watching your back, Benny. The guy doesn't have a very good track record."

"I'm sorry. He just seems desperate to talk to me for whatever reason. I mean he even followed Ray and I back here last night."

"Don't you find that kind of stalker creepy?" Kowalski asked.

"He's not stalking me." Fraser grumbled.

"You sure about that? He said he slept in his car and he just happened to be at the same restaurant we were going to eat at last night. Don't you think that's kinda odd?"

"He was meeting someone there."

"Believe whatever you want. I don't trust him." Kowalski snatched his jacket off the hook by the door. "I gotta run or Welsh is gonna have my hide for breakfast."

Fraser met him at the door before he could leave. "I'll call you later. You still plan on joining us tomorrow at the rink?"

Kowalski nodded and gave Fraser a quick kiss. "Oh yeah, Vecchio and I are gonna whoop you this time around." Kowalski jabbed a finger into Fraser's chest. "I'm not leaving you alone with him."

"You have nothing to worry about, I swear. And we'll just see about you beating us," Fraser gave Ray a warm smile and kissed him again. "Bye."

"Later Vecchio, thanks for the doughnut," Ray waved as he closed the door behind him.

"So?" Vecchio questioned as Fraser leaned against the door and caught his breath. "What's going on? Things looked a little tense when I came in."

"Ray doesn't like Mark. Mark doesn't like Ray and you don't like either of them." Fraser pushed off the door and placed the lamp on the counter. "Thank you for the lamp by the way, but I think I'll move back to Canada where my friends don't fight over me."

"Oh come on, Benny. Quit being so dramatic. We only fight over you because we love you so much. Besides… I like Kowalski. He kinda grows on you after a while. Like a foot fungus."

Fraser shot him an annoyed look. Ray sighed. He'd forgotten that Benny's sense of humor didn't always translate American, let alone _Italian-American._

"Look, do you really think I would have brought a dozen doughnuts just for the two of us and Dief? I had a feeling he would be over at some point today, so I brought some for him too." Vecchio made a face and tried not to laugh. "Although, I gotta admit. I didn't think he would be here at seven in the morning."

Fraser blushed. "We fell asleep on the couch."

"But you don't have a TV."

"What does that have to do with anything? We were just talking and he was comfortable and I was comfortable and…"

Vecchio held up a hand silencing Fraser. "I don't want details."

Fraser laughed lightly. "There aren't any details. We really just fell asleep. And between you and me…" Dief barked from the couch. "And Diefenbaker…" Fraser lowered his voice and leaned closer to Vecchio. "Ray _snores_."

"He doesn't." Ray gasped and roared with laughter. "Oh God, this is great. Now I have something on him." Vecchio patted Fraser on the chest. "Your secret is safe with me, Benny."

"That's good to know. What are you doing up so early on a Saturday anyway?"

"I couldn't sleep." Vecchio rubbed a hand over his balding head. "Left the house early so I could get the first pick of the best doughnuts. And I wanted to see a friendly face that wasn't constantly bugging me about counseling. "

"Your family?" Fraser asked.

"Yeah and everyone at the department. Why can't they all just back off?"

"They care about you, Ray."

"I know they do and I appreciate it. But it makes me feel like I'm the bad guy. Like I've done something wrong that they need to get fixed by me talking to a shrink." It didn't help that Ray knew _exactly_ what he'd done wrong in Vegas. And who he'd left behind. Was that why he'd been such an ass about Kowalski? He was lonely and he really was jealous that Benny had another friend?

Yeah well, time to stop being a dick.

Fraser was talking. Ha. There was a surprise.

"I think you and I are a lot alike."

"Yeah?" Ray laughed incredulously. "How's that?"

"We never want to talk about what's really bothering us, even if someone can help us. I imagine it's because we don't feel like we deserve the help."

Huh. Benny had a good and quite reasonable point. "When did you become so smart?"

"Since I came to Chicago and became your partner and friend."

Vecchio pointed to the doughnuts. "You want to go get some real breakfast instead? You can tell me how your first date went with Kowalski. So the guy snores… I knew he had faults."

Fraser went all misty eyed probably thinking about Kowalski and all his adorable quirks. Jeez. What a sap.

"Come on, I'll grab my coat."

* * *

Mark wasn't feeling good about this. He was feeling less and less good about it the longer he waited. What was he thinking?

Sure, he wanted what Zuko had promised. The idea of being a hero to Ben was inspiring. If Mark was the one who swooped in and rescued Ben, then maybe Ben would see him as the hero, not Kowalski. Maybe Ben would finally give him a chance.

'Yeah, right,' Mark sighed. Now that he'd seen Ben and Kowalski together that didn't look likely. Mark hadn't seen Ben in love before. It was even worse than he imagined. When he'd come into the restaurant he had honestly thought Ben would be too polite not to let him sit at their table. Yeah, it had been Kowalski who told him to ' _fuck off_ '. Not in as many words, he probably hadn't wanted to upset Ben. But Mark hadn't missed the look of relief on Ben's face when he had left.

Maybe he was worrying about nothing. Maybe Zuko's plan really would work.

 _Maybe._ He had to play his own part though. Had to get Ben where he wanted him to be. And at least Ben was meeting up with him. That had to mean something? He hadn't completely scared him off by showing up at his apartment unannounced.

In his heart of hearts, he knew it meant nothing, other than a hockey game with a friend. Maybe after Mark ' _rescued_ ' him though... maybe then Ben would look at him like he looked at Kowalski.

He could only hope. His fingers shook as he tied his hockey skates. The plan might work. All he had to do was get Ben somewhere where they could be alone, do his part and let the rest unfold.

"It'll be okay," he muttered as he stood up and stepped out onto the ice. He ran his fingers over the fresh abrasions Zuko's men had left on him when he wanted to back out of the plan. They _'encouraged_ ' him with a beating, that not following through, wouldn't be in his best interest. Tomorrow, everything would fall into place. It had to. Ben would show up, he'd apologize and hope his plan would work.

* * *

The next day when the Rays were supposed to join Fraser and Mark at the rink, it turned out neither one was able to make it. Kowalski had a new murder case dropped on his desk to go along with the one Welsh called him for the day before. He was fuming that he had to work on Sunday and couldn't stick to Fraser's side and keep an eye on him. He didn't trust Mark. But another thug connected to Zuko got himself ' _offed_ ' and dumped into the lake as well. If that's how Frank Zuko took care of his 'family', Ray hated to see how he treated his enemies. Good thing Vecchio wasn't back to work yet. Vecchio needed a Mob case like he needed another bullet. 'Poor bastard never catches a break.' Attempted murder of a cop and Zuko had got off on a technicality. Vecchio had wigged out big time when he got back from Vegas and discovered his nemesis was back on the streets. And now Zuko really was acting like he was bigger and mightier than God.

Yeah, just as well Vecchio was still off on disability. Ray shook his head and started reading the crime reports. Even though the victim was lowest of the low it was still a crime that needed to be investigated. He felt nauseous just looking at the photo of the bloated corpse. But he had a job to do. Hockey could wait.

On the other side of the city, Ray Vecchio was fuming too. He'd finally run out of excuses and couldn't put off his therapy any longer. No choice if he ever wanted to return to work. He grumbled his apologies to Fraser over the phone. "I don't see why this is even necessary," he complained again when Fraser told him it wasn't a big deal that he'd miss out on the impromptu hockey. "You don't see Kowalski having to go through counseling."

"No, his assignment was much different than yours, Ray. It wasn't nearly as involved. And if it makes you feel any better, Ray can't go either. Lieutenant Welsh has given him a new case to work on."

"Working with you should have been traumatic enough to need counseling. It's suicidal being your partner."

Fraser's face fell. "Remind me again why I came back to Chicago?"

Ray groaned. Even when he wasn't in the room he could just imagine the look on Benny's face. Seemed like these days he couldn't help hurting his friend's feelings. Maybe he should have phoned Kowalski instead, got him to deliver the news. "Sorry, Benny. I'm just having a bad day. I don't want to do this. It's stupid."

Fraser shook his coat into place. "You remember when I was shot?" Fraser knuckled his brow. What a dumb question, _of course_ Ray remembered. "Going through counseling is nothing to be embarrassed about or ashamed of. They merely help you sort through your feelings and help teach you how to deal with them."

"I know what it's for, Benny. I went through it that time too." And hated every moment of it. "That was different than this."

"It may have been a different situation, but there were still be emotions to be sorted through." Fraser pulled up the cuff of his sleeve. "I'm running late to meet Mark, but I'll be here if you want to talk later."

Vecchio bit back the first response that came to mind... 'Don't let him crack you upside the head with a wine bottle this time.' He'd already given Benny enough grief about Kowalski, he didn't want Benny to think he really was the jerk he was acting like. "Yeah, yeah," he groaned instead. "Get going. You go do your thing and I'll go do mine." 'And if he hurts you, or even _Kowalski_ , I'll kill him.'

Fortunately, Benny didn't know what he was thinking.

"I meant what I said, Ray. If you want to talk, I'll be here."

Ray hung up the phone and hung his head. 'I'll be here,' Benny had said. Yeah, that was what he was worried about. That Benny _would_ be there and Ray would end up blurting out every sick thing he had done in Vegas. All those things that were _really_ eating him up inside.

He shrugged his coat on, sullenly and got ready for his therapy appointment. The department must be serious if they were forcing him to go on a Sunday.

* * *

Fraser tightened the laces on his skate and shook his pant leg down in place. With the exception of the previous day, it had been several years since he had stepped onto the ice. Nostalgia washed over him as the metal blade cut a path into the ice. He glided effortlessly across the frozen surface. Suddenly, he felt like he was ten years old again, skating with his friends on the frozen ponds back home until his grandmother called him in for the evening.

Fraser skated several figure eights to get his legs steady underneath him. He was a slightly sore from the previous day on the ice and his legs had felt like jello when he first laced up his skates. Finding the balance on the skates again was like riding a bike. The smile on his face grew as his speed picked up with each new rotation. The figure eights became tighter, more precise, as his confidence grew. 'Yes,' Fraser smiled playfully. 'Just like riding a bike.' He skated out to meet Mark at the far end of the rink where he was shooting pucks into an unprotected net. Fraser was confused. Mark wasn't wearing any of his protective gear. "You didn't bring your pads. I thought we were going to play some hockey."

"Changed my mind. Thought we'd just shoot some pucks instead." Mark fiddled with the puck at the end of his stick before meeting Fraser's eyes. "I want to apologize for the other day, Ben."

"Apologize?"

"Yeah. For kissing you and then showing up at your apartment. I shouldn't have done it knowing how you felt, but I had to know for sure."

"Why did you even try? Ray Vecchio had told you numerous times that Ray and I were together."

"You need some friends that aren't named Ray." Mark slapped the puck around a bit more before looking back at Fraser. "You and I have a bit of a history and I thought maybe I could finally convince you to go out with me." He moved the puck around some more. "Guess I was wrong."

"Yes. You know that I've never felt that way about you."

"I know." He smacked a puck into the net without looking. "Just sucks. I was hoping this time you'd finally change your mind." The puck pinged off the sidebar and floated in, scoring Mark another point. The ice under the net was already full of battered pucks. Looked like Mark had been here a while. "So," Mark began, changing the subject. "Where're your little friends?"

"They were afraid their combined skills would be too much for you to handle," Fraser ribbed back as he took up the position of the goalie. "Had Ray's boot not come unlaced at the last minute, they may very well have beaten us."

"Oh," Marked laughed. "I see you've turned into a smart ass. You always did lose your manners on the ice."

Fraser chuckled. "It was the only place I could lose them. I've forgotten how much I enjoy playing." He tapped his borrowed stick against the ice, as if testing its strength. "Thank you for the equipment, by the way. I never replaced mine when my apartment burned down."

"Not a problem. I've got plenty of sticks to go around." Mark selected a puck and moved it in front of him with his skate. He passed it from his left to his right and back again, stopping it each time with his stick before it went out of range.

Fraser narrowed his eyes, waiting for the impending strike.

"So where _are_ your friends?" Mark asked again, eyes still glued to the puck gliding across the ice in front of him.

The moment Fraser straightened to respond, Mark slapped the puck, sending it sailing past Fraser into the net.

"Never let your guard down, Ben," Mark responded with a smug smile. He kicked another puck in front of him and moved it from side to side with precision. "So," he began again, "Where's your two buddies?"

"They couldn't make it," Fraser responded, hunched into position, trying to anticipate when Mark was going to launch his next attack. _'Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me,'_ Fraser thought wryly as his eyes stayed focused on the puck. "Ray Vecchio had an appointment and Ray Kowalski has a new case to investigate."

"No, seriously, I want to know. You have any friends who aren't named ' _Ray_ '?" Mark asked, snapping his wrist suddenly, sending the puck sailing through the air.

Fraser reached to the left and caught it at the goal line. He smirked at his friend and tossed the puck out onto the ice. "I have you."

Mark appeared taken aback at Ben's sincere reply. He pushed another wet black puck around on the ice with his hockey stick two feet in front of him. He glanced up from the puck he was focused on and met Ben's eyes. There was something in his expression that struck Ben, something sad and angry at the same time. "You always were a good friend, Ben. Better than I ever was." Mark turned and hit the puck with everything he had. Again, Fraser caught it mid-air and dropped it before him. Mark's shoulder's slumped in defeat. "Do you always have to be the best at everything?"

"I'm not the best at everything," Fraser corrected as he squatted back into position.

"Sure you are." _Whack_. Mark nailed another puck, the sound echoed in the empty arena. "You always got the better grades." _Whack._ "Even with your grandmother forcing you to study when we could have been playing hockey, you were still better than me." _Whack_. "If you wouldn't have moved away, you'd be the famous hockey player." _Whack._

Fraser remembered this childhood game of chicken. The puck cut through the air to the right of his head. Fraser had always been on the receiving end of this particular game. "You were better at picking friends." Mark began hitting pucks one right after the other, allowing Fraser no time to prepare for the next shot.

"I picked you," he stated boldly.

"I guess you aren't the best at everything _after all_."

Fraser let the pucks sail past him into the net and studied the man before him. Where was Mark's sudden hostility coming from? To the right and left of him, pucks pinged off the bars supporting the net. Fraser stood his ground. He would never admit it aloud, he wasn't stupid after all, but when Mark got into one of his _moods_ , he never had to worry about Mark actually hitting his target. Fraser dug the blades of his borrowed skates into the ice, not flinching, all his attention focused on the pucks as he tried to figure out what was going on in Mark's head.

Mark never looked up, simply lined up his next puck and hit it as hard as he could. Fraser studied the side of Mark's face, noticing for the first time, fresh abrasions that weren't there when they played hockey the day before.

"Mark," Fraser called as he skated out from between the goal posts. "What happened…"

A puck blindsided Fraser, hitting him in the left temple, instantly dropping him to the ground. Mark could hit his target after all.

Mark let his hockey stick fall. And didn't move. "Is that what you wanted?" he threw the question out into the open arena.

"Bravo. Well done." Frankie Zuko clapped his hands together as he clambered across the ice. The expensive loafers were no match to a pair of hockey skates on the ice. "I told you paying off your debts could be _so_ easy."

"You promised you wouldn't hurt him, Mr. Zuko." Mark let his eyes drop to his fallen friend. Blood was trickling from Fraser's hairline where the puck had connected with his skull. The red liquid saturated a length of hair at Fraser's temple and dripped, dripped, dripped. The forming blood pool spread slowly at first, the frigid surface slowing it down, then began pooling quickly around Fraser's head as he lay unresponsive on the frozen surface.

"Ah, so I did." Frankie folded his arms across his chest and gave Mark the smuggest of grins. Amazing how a man with such a small stature could be so intimidating. "Of course, I didn't need to. _You_ did it for me." He uncrossed his arms and glared at Mark, snapping his fingers suddenly. The snap resonated and echoed, causing Mark to jump. Frankie pulled at his chin. "And as I recall, you promised to pay me back the money you borrowed. You shouldn't gamble money that isn't yours, Mark. At the very least, make an effort to win occasionally."

"I told you, I just needed a little more time."

"Doesn't everyone?" Frankie snapped his fingers again and one of his thug bodyguards materialized beside him. Where he came from, Mark wasn't sure, his attention still focused on Fraser's motionless body. The guy grabbed Fraser's wrist and in one swift motion, heaved Fraser over his shoulder. "Your time's up, Mark. This way," he motioned to Fraser's limp form slung over his bodyguard's shoulder. "This way, I'm guaranteed to get my money."

Mark looked from Zuko to Fraser. "How will I know when to show up?" When he glanced back, Frankie had a gun trained on him.

"Plans change, Mark. I don't need you anymore." Frankie pulled the trigger and Mark dropped as quickly as his friend. "Consider your debt paid in full."

* * *

"Where the hell is Fraser?" Vecchio asked Kowalski as he paced in front of Fraser's locked apartment door. He'd already wasted his whole damn morning, waiting for a therapy appointment that never happened. Come Monday, he was going to find whatever knucklehead got his dates mixed up and tell them exactly what he thought of them. "If you're gonna be staying here a lot, Moron, you're gonna need a key. Doesn't this place heat the hallways?"

"Ben hasn't gotten one cut yet. He's not even completely moved in yet, give him a break." Kowalski turned his wrist and checked his watch for the time. "I don't know where he is. He asked me to meet him here at six."

"Maybe it's because he doesn't want you to stay over after all, ever think of that?"

"You ever think of shutting that trap of yours?"

Vecchio ignored Kowalski's jab. "Benny's never late." 'Never late except for that one time when he was with that bitch Victoria. And then, he never showed up.'

"Don't you think I know that?" Kowalski snapped. He tried to remember the conversation he had had with Fraser over the phone several hours before. Welsh had been barking at him in one ear about the dead guy pulled from the lake, Frannie was dropping case files sporadically all over his desk in retaliation for him making her file a bunch of finished reports while Fraser was attempting to talk to him through the phone. Maybe he did get the time mixed up. Kowalski leaned back against the wall and planted a foot into it. He propelled himself forward with a simple push of his foot and then let himself fall back. He had his own nervous gestures. "Hey, what do you know about this Smithbauer guy?"

"I know I don't like him."

"Do you like anybody?" Kowalski snarked. "Never mind. Don't answer that. You know, I vaguely remember coming across his name when I had to read through your case files. Didn't you and Ben get him off the hook for something?"

"' _Ben'_?" Vecchio questioned. "You're calling him 'Ben' now?"

"Isn't that his name? Besides, you call him _'Benny'_ all the time. And would you focus please?" Kowalski checked his watch again. "I don't get good vibes from this Mark guy. You remember he was over here yesterday morning?" He scowled as Vecchio shook his head. He had walked into a very tense room. "Yeah, well. He only tried talking Fraser into going out with him. Said he was planning on staying in town for a while and maybe they could _'hook up_ '. As if I don't know what that means."

"What did Benny say?"

"He brushed him off. Told Mark that he wasn't interested. I just get the feeling that there's more to it than meets the eye. Mark kept acting like there was something he wanted to say, but wouldn't just come out with it. Maybe it's because I was there. I don't know. Ben keeps telling me to give him another chance."

"That's Benny for you. Always giving somebody the benefit of the doubt."

"Where the hell are you Ben?" Kowalski asked as he checked his watch for the fourth time in as many minutes. "We've been waiting for over forty minutes."

"Maybe they got caught up in their game." Vecchio suggested as he checked his own watch. For a moment he thought of teasing Kowalski. But for once he managed to keep his snarky replies to himself. Kowalski seemed to have Benny's best interests at heart, which was more than could be said for Smithbauer. Vecchio was uneasy.

"Yeah, that could be it, I suppose." Kowalski gnawed on his thumbnail. "I mean this Smithbauer guy's probably got a lot of money. Wouldn't surprise me if he had that place rented for the entire night. He's a celebrity hockey player, right? He wouldn't be disturbed by the public and nobody would be coming in to kick them out."

"I thought you knew your hockey. Mark doesn't play for any major teams anymore. He burnt that bridge a long time ago. I wouldn't count on him having any money either. Saw it a million times over while I was in Vegas. That guy is a classic gambling junkie. Probably doesn't even have a penny to his name. Wouldn't surprise me if he's hit Benny up for some money when we weren't around."

Kowalski rolled his eyes. "Dammit. Ben's such a sucker for sob stories, too. And knowing him, he probably gave him everything in his hat. You think maybe that's what he wanted yesterday?" Kowalski checked his watch for what seemed like the hundredth time. "Where the hell is he?"

"Wouldn't surprise me. Maybe he wouldn't ask with you there because he knew you'd talk Benny out of it." Vecchio rubbed a hand over his balding head. " _Jesus, Benny!_ You could have called one of us." Vecchio glared at Kowalski. "Are you sure you don't have any missed calls on your phone? Maybe he meant meet him at the Consulate."

"He said his new apartment. Does that sound anything like _'Consulate'_ to you?"

"It's just not like him to be this late."

"No, it's not," Kowalski agreed. "If he were going to be a second late, he'd call. He'd call unless…"

Vecchio's stomach dropped. "Unless... he _couldn't_ call."

"We're probably overreacting. There's no reason to panic yet."

"You know Benny. There's _always_ a reason to panic. Trouble finds him regardless."

"What's the quickest way to the arena?" Kowalski called over his shoulder as he took off down the hall toward the stairwell.

* * *

No news was supposed to be good news, and it wasn't like they knew something was wrong... but for some reason Ray was beginning to panic. From the way he was driving, so was Vecchio. Ray wouldn't admit it, but Vecchio _was_ a good driver. There was black ice everywhere and they were lucky not to have slid off the road. He really did have that controlled skid mastered. Mark's navy blue Camaro was the only car in the parking lot. Well, except for the security SUV that was circling the parking lot, it's lights flashing uselessly in the evening light.

"Ok, that's a good sign, right?" Kowalski questioned when he saw the car. "Means they're still here."

"You'd think so, but this is Benny."

Vecchio flipped on the police light he'd tossed onto the dash of his new Cadillac in hopes of drawing the attention of the security personnel circling the lot. Kowalski hopped out of the car before Vecchio had even pulled to a complete stop. He ran up to the entrance of the arena and pulled frantically on the handle of every glass door, praying one would finally open. On the last one he tried, his hand slipped through something wet and tacky. Ray pulled his fingers back, already cold from the weather, and crinkled his face. 'Was that… _blood_?' "Fuck," he cursed out loud. " _Open God dammit!_ " he screamed as he pulled desperately on the door before him.

He threw his hands up in the air and turned in frustration to see if Vecchio had any luck. If nobody came, he was kicking his way into this building. Vecchio was running across the lot with a security guy in tow.

"Hurry the fuck up!" Kowalski yelled. "There's blood on the door."

"You got keys to this place?" Vecchio asked the guard, panting hard from the sprint across the lot. He leaned over and coughed, trying to catch his breath.

"No," the guard replied but searched his pockets anyway. "We just make sure there's no disturbance outside of the building."

"Move it, Mickey Mouse," Kowalski ordered as he picked up the nearest cement cigarette ashtray up off the ground.

"Hey, you can't throw that through this door," the security guard objected as he moved between Kowalski and the door.

" _The fuck I can't_!" Kowalski screamed back. "Move your ass or you're going through with it!"

"I'm calling the cops," the guard scrambled for the radio attached to his belt.

Vecchio flashed his badge in the guy's face. "I told you, you idiot, we _are_ the cops." He grabbed hold of the guy's shirt collar and yanked him to the side.

"Do it," Vecchio nodded to Kowalski, giving him the go ahead.

Kowalski drew back the cement ashtray and heaved it forward with everything he had. Glass shards, sand and cigarette butts skittered across the tiled entryway. The ashtray receptacle smashed a ceramic planter nestled against the far wall. Dirt and flowers joined the mess on the floor. Ray drew his gun as he stepped through the metal frame, his boots crunching the broken glass beneath his feet.

"Stay behind me," Kowalski ordered Vecchio tersely.

"The hell I am," Vecchio hissed back as he drew his own weapon. He stepped through the metal frame that used to be a door and fell into step beside Kowalski. "Just because I can't be a cop right now, doesn't mean I'm not packing."

The two men followed the same path to the rink they had taken the last time they were at the arena with Fraser and Mark. Kowalski's stomach fell the moment he reached the ice. There was a motionless body lying facedown on the ice. From the position of the body, he couldn't tell who it was. 'Please, God. Don't let that be Fraser.' Ray wanted to vomit. He hadn't seen Ben since earlier that morning and wasn't sure what he was wearing.

"Oh my God," Vecchio yelled as he came up behind Kowalski. " _Benny!_ " He shoved past Kowalski, hitting the ice first. Stumbling and slipping, they made their way towards the body.

Kowalski found his footing first and scurried ahead of Vecchio. "It's not Ben," Kowalski yelled over his shoulder as he dropped to his knees at Mark's head. "It's Mark. Ray, he's been shot." Ray dug his fingers into Smithbauer's neck in search of a pulse. "Shit, _come on_." He adjusted his fingers. There it was faint, barely registering against his skin. "Call an ambulance. He's still alive." Ray rolled Smithbauer and pressed his hands into the wound on his chest. His long sleeve shirt was stained with blood. Ray's police training kicked in immediately. 'Weird,' he thought. 'If Mark came here to play hockey, where're his pads?'

"Where the hell's Benny?" Vecchio scanned the empty arena. His eyes fell on the frozen pool of blood behind Kowalski. "Oh God." Vecchio struggled on the ice to the blood stain.

"What? Is it Ben?" Kowalski asked, fear and dread rising within him. He threw a glance over his shoulder as he continued to apply pressure to Mark's wound.

"Blood," Vecchio stated. He knelt down onto the ice and examined the streaked pool of red. "I don't see a bullet." Vecchio noticed the black hockey puck nearby. There was a small amount of blood at the base of the puck, freezing it to the ice.

"Call an ambulance, Ray. I can't let go or he's gonna bleed to death." Kowalski ordered. Vecchio made the call and remained kneeling on the ice, frozen in shock. This was no time for Vecchio to go all PTSD on him. "Move your ass Vecchio! Go find Ben - _Jesus,_ what is wrong with you?"

"He's not here," Vecchio stated coldly. Ray shivered. He could see the Bookman persona lurking just behind his eyes. Vecchio swallowed hard, took a deep breath and tried to think. He'd seen this kind of thing too many times in Vegas, been a part of it too many times. "Someone's got Benny."

* * *

"What the hell happened?" Welsh barked at his detectives, his voice filling the hospital corridor. Neither man was forthcoming. Kowalski was covered in Mark's blood, looking numb. Vecchio had been eerily silent since they left the ice rink. "What's this all about? One of you talk to me, _please_."

"We don't know," Kowalski finally broke the silence as he stared at the blood covering his hands. Nausea began to rise in his throat, his stomach churned and he could taste the bile flooding his mouth. "I'm gonna…" he swallowed hard, tried to get his breathing under control as he squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm gonna be sick." Ray went ghost white. He turned and grabbed the closest trash can he could find. An orderly came from behind the desk to offer his assistance as Ray retched into the trash bin. He handed him a paper cup of water to rinse his mouth.

"Can someone get him a clean shirt?" Welsh asked as he slid a chair under Ray. Ray collapsed onto the plastic surface and tried to organize his thoughts. If nothing else he could at the very least give his boss a rundown of what little they knew. "Fraser told us to meet him at his apartment and he didn't show. He'd gone to play hockey with Smithbauer and he hadn't come back, so we went to try and find him. We went to the arena where they were supposed to be and…" Kowalski took a deep breath to collect himself. "When we got there, the place was locked up tight. Mark's car was still in the parking lot. I uh, broke one of the doors and Ray and I ran in and…" Kowalski coughed and squeezed his eyes shut tight. "We found Smithbauer at the far end of the rink with a bullet in him. No Fraser."

Welsh ran a hand down his face, taking in what Ray had just told him.

"There was a uh, a black round thingy…" Ray shook his head frustrated. "Dammit."

"A hockey puck?" Welsh suggested.

"Yeah, yeah. A hockey puck." Kowalski's thoughts were so scattered he couldn't even come up with the simple word. "It had blood on it. Fraser's gotta be hurt."

Welsh folded his arms across his chest. Vecchio still hadn't moved a muscle.

"Are you the investigating officer?" A voice broke in on their conversation. The doctor. About time.

Welsh nodded, and showed his badge.

"Good. Well, you'll be glad to hear that the ice quite possibly saved Mr. Smithbauer's life." The surgeon introduced himself. "I'm Doctor Ascot."

Welsh shook the doctor's hand. "He's gonna make it then?"

"Yes, I believe so. I did manage to remove the bullet."

"What the hell are you doing?" Kowalski snatched the bullet from the doctor's hand. "You've ruined any chance we had of getting a partial print off that thing."

"Don't worry," Vecchio's voice was arid. "These guys knew what they were doing. They wouldn't have left a fingerprint in the first place."

Kowalski nodded and passed the bullet to Welsh to inspect. The Lieutenant held it between his big blunt fingers, then handed it off to Vecchio. Vecchio turned the bullet over in his fingers. This was all too familiar. Vecchio fought against the rising bile. He thought he had left Vegas behind.

"When can we talk to him?" Vecchio found his voice again. "We need to know what happened to Benny."

"Absolutely not." Welsh shook his meaty finger in the air between his two detectives. "Bad idea, Vecchio. Neither of you are talking to him. I don't need one of you accidentally strangling the man."

"Who says it would be an accident?" Vecchio stated dryly. "Benny's missing because of him. I've got no problem going in there and wrapping my hands around his throat until his head pops off."

"How do we know it isn't the other way around?" Welsh was the voice of reason. "Maybe the Constable got himself into trouble, not that big of a stretch considering his track record. What if someone's got it in for Fraser and Smithbauer was trying to protect him?"

"I know this guy," Vecchio said. "And Kowalski here will back me up. There's something squirrely about him."

"I knew I should have kicked the bastard in the head," Kowalski muttered.

The surgeon raised an eyebrow at the Lieutenant. "I'll put this man in a private room with a guard at his door if need be."

"Don't worry, nobody's going to lay a finger on him." Welsh glared at his men. "Vecchio, take Kowalski home and get him a change of clothes. Then the two of you get your asses to the station and find out anything and everything about this Smithbauer guy. What he's been up to, who his friends are, where he lives, how's he making ends meet? I want to know what color of toilet paper this guy uses. If he's in some kind of trouble we need to know. Until we can talk to him, it's our only shot at finding Fraser. In the meantime, I'll contact Inspector Thatcher and see if Fraser found himself any trouble while he was gone." Welsh made shooing motions towards the door. "I'll talk to Smithbauer when he wakes up."

"That may be a while yet," the surgeon warned. "While the surgery to remove the bullet went well and he should make a full recovery, he did lose a lot of blood."

Welsh folded his beefy arms defiantly. "I'm a patient man, I can wait."

* * *

Kowalski shoved open the door to his apartment and tossed his keys on the counter. "Give me five, okay?"

Vecchio nodded. He'd never been inside Kowalski's place before. To him, it looked like the inside of a teenager's bedroom, not a grown man's apartment. "How does Benny stand you?" He peered inside a forgotten coffee cup on the breakfast bar, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Gross, don't you know you should at least rinse out your cups before stuff starts growing out of them?"

"This is not the time, Vecchio." Kowalski made his way to the bathroom, shucking off his shirt as he did so. "Just once, can you give it a break?"

"Sorry." Vecchio surprised himself by apologizing. "I'm worried, that's all."

"Yeah, me too." Kowalski muttered before walking into the bathroom. He splashed some water on his face and scrubbed the dried blood from under his nails. The blood stained sweatshirt was going in the trash. No way was he ever wearing that thing again, even if he did manage to get all the blood out. He snagged a clean pair of jeans, a fresh t-shirt and long sleeved shirt and changed quickly. He emerged from the bathroom, not looking much better, but at least not covered in blood. "We gotta find him. You got any ideas?"

Vecchio pinched his nose. "All I can think is..."

"What? You got something, you damn well better tell me." Kowalski shrugged back into his gun holster.

"I could be wrong. I'm just thinking this has Mob written all over it."

Kowalski's eyes went hard and dangerous. "Oh yeah? And what makes you think that?"

"Somebody made sure that neither one of us were at the rink with Fraser. Maybe our phones were bugged or something, I don't know. Look, you saw the bullet. Filed down so there won't be a serial number on it. And the blood spatter. It would have been a classic execution style hit if Mark had actually died. They left him to send a message. And they took Benny for..."

"What?"

'Blackmail,' Vecchio thought. 'Or maybe revenge.' "Whoever it is, they want something."

"Well, we'd better figure out what and soon. You know these guys better than anyone. How long do you think Ben is going to last if they don't get what they want?"

"Not long."

* * *

Searing pain tore through Fraser's body as he awoke with a jolt. He felt like his head was about to explode. The last thing he remembered was meeting Mark at the ice rink. He attempted to open his eyes. Only the right one cooperated. His head lolled to the right and he rested his head on his bicep and prayed for the room to stop spinning. Blinding pain radiated from his temple, his shoulders, his wrists. Everything hurt. He tried to stick his tongue out to wet his cracked lips, but the gag in his mouth stopped him. Wherever he was, it was boiling hot and suffocating. His shirt was drenched with a mixture of sweat and blood and clung to his skin. He could barely breathe and the gag only made it more difficult. Fraser tried taking a deep breath but his ribs protested the movement and he had to settle on short breaths.

Fraser turned his head as far as his injuries would allow and scanned the room. His left eye was swollen shut, giving him limited sight with his right. He dropped his head backwards and it clunked against a pole. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly to try and block out the newest pain. His wrists were zip-tied above his head, his shoulders were on fire from being stuck in the same position for too long. He tried to move his feet to relieve some of the strain on his shoulders but found his feet were tied to the pole as well.

' _Dammit,'_ he muttered through the gag. Sweat mixed with blood as it trickled down his face, stinging the fresh abrasions left from a beating he vaguely remembered. The bloody mixture was running into his right eye, blurring his already limited vision. Frankie Zuko's men had done a number on him. The urge to vomit rose quickly as the room began to spin out of control. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. He knew he would choke to death if he threw up with the gag in his mouth. The zip ties around his wrists had already cut painful deep gashes into his skin. He tried adjusting his weight to alleviate the pressure on his wrists but forgot that his feet were bound as well. He wasn't even flat footed, but tied with just his toes touching the ground. His zip tied wrists were supporting his entire weight. There would be no relief. Blood dribbled down the lengths of his arms leaving rusty trails on his long sleeved shirt.

Fraser struggled against his bonds. It was hopeless. He wasn't going anywhere.

* * *

"We're not getting anywhere." Kowalski dropped his head onto the desk. "He could _be_ anywhere."

"He's somewhere. We'll find him." Vecchio looked lost, sitting at Ray's desk, as though it had never been his.

"Will we find him in one piece?" The memory of Ben's blood on the puck was still vivid. Ray was feeling sick.

Vecchio didn't say anything for once. That wasn't helping.

"Okay," Kowalski blew out a frustrated breath. He was trying to keep his emotions in check. "All we got is that Mark has a bunch of foreclosed properties here in Chicago."

"That could tie in with him possibly owing big money."

"And that ties in with your idea it's the mob. You got any ideas?"

"Well, you aren't going to like it."

Ray glared. "I told you back at my place already. If you know something, you'd better tell me."

"Come on, for God's sake, Kowalski, work it out yourself. Who is there, in this city, with the kind of connections and pull to drop a floater in the Lake for you to investigate, two days in a row, to get my private phone number and set up a bogus appointment, to..."

"Oh God. _Zuko_."

"Yeah, Zuko. He's fresh out of prison, trying to get his reputation back, his 'hold on the market.' He has a grudge against me for a lifetime of reasons and he hates Benny for sticking up for everything that's right. This would be perfect for him. Everyone in the know, knows that Smithbauer's got a gambling problem. Zuko could have reeled him in, _knowing_ that he was connected to Benny. The whole setup is perfect. If it is Zuko behind this, he'd do anything to get back at me."

"And Zuko knows you'll do anything for Ben."

Vecchio paused, looking at Ray oddly. "Yeah."

"What are you looking at me like that for?"

"How'd you know?" Vecchio toyed with the cuff of his sleeve and averted his eyes. "I love him, not the same way you do, but I'd do anything to keep Benny safe."

Ray shook his head. Now wasn't the time for male bonding. "If it is Zuko, why hasn't he contacted you? We should be hearing from someone." Kowalski looked at his watch. "It's been five hours already."

"We can't wait for him to make the first move." Vecchio got to his feet, and pulled on his long coat.

"You're going to meet him now?"

"You got a better idea?"

Ray didn't need to think about it and grabbed his own coat. "No."

* * *

Zuko was in his silk pajamas when he answered the front door, looking as though he had just got out of bed. He put on an expression of surprise, as though he hadn't expected to see them. Vecchio wasn't buying it for an instant. He knew Zuko would be anticipating their arrival.

"Where's Ben?" Kowalski got there first, pushing his way past Vecchio and grabbing Zuko by a fistfull of his silk pajama top. Vecchio threw his arms around his waist and tugged him back.

"Don't kill him yet, Kowalski. We need him."

Zuko brushed out the crinkles in his clothes, and yawned. He really was a bad actor. " _Detectives_ Vecchio," he smirked. "Both of you. How nice of you to drop by. You do realize the hour don't you? It's quite early or late, however you choose to look at it."

"Shut the fuck up. You heard the guy," Vecchio snarled. "Where's Benny?"

"You always were so melodramatic," Zuko tutted. "Why would I know where your friend is?"

"I'm gonna kill him." Kowalski's fists were up and Vecchio had to reel him back again.

"Calm down! This won't help Benny."

"He knows something, I swear..."

Zuko sighed. "Oh, alright. Since it's you and since we're such old friends, I'll let you in on a little secret."

Both Rays froze and stared at Frankie. " _Well_?" Vecchio's voice came out terse. It was all he could do not to hit the smug bastard.

Frankie's smirk turned to a scowl. "Or perhaps I won't. After all, you did kill my sister."

This time it was Kowalski holding Vecchio back. "Ray! Ray! Stop it!" Vecchio stopped, shocked as much as anything by Kowalski's use of his name.

"I didn't kill Irene," Vecchio managed through clenched teeth.

"I know." Kowalski's voice was calm, understanding even. His hand rested between Ray's shoulders, a steady reassuring presence. Vecchio was being the unreasonable one now. "I know you didn't kill her, Ray. He did. I read the report. It wasn't your fault."

"Yeah, yeah it was." Maybe Zuko pulled the trigger, but Ray was the flashpoint and they both knew it.

Zuko was looking at him with a face that radiated pure hate. "At least you admit it." Zuko twisted his hands together. "You see, I've got this little problem."

"You're gonna have a bigger problem if you don't tell us where Ben is." Kowalski bared his teeth.

"How much is Benton Fraser worth to you?" Zuko pulled at his chin. "Would you say he's worth a quarter of a million dollars?"

Vecchio's mouth was dry. Kowalski was about to pull his gun on the bastard.

"You see, somebody borrowed some money from me and then when they couldn't pay up…"

" _Smithbauer_ …" Vecchio's voice was flat.

Zuko's slow smile of satisfaction confirmed it, even before his words did. "He sold his friend out to pay off his debt."

Vecchio swallowed the nausea that was rising from his stomach.

Kowalski wanted to shoot Zuko right between his beady little eyes. His voice shook with uncontrolled rage. "You mean he made a deal with the Devil."

"If that's how you want to look at it. Either way, now, I've got a problem," Zuko twisted his hands together and cracked his knuckles. "I've got a broken down Mountie and still _no_ money."

"You better not have hurt him," Kowalski lunged for Zuko. Vecchio was barely able to hold the furious man back.

"Banks open at nine, Ray. You've got until ten to get me my money," Frankie smirked as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his pajama bottoms and rocked back on his heels. You wait a minute longer and I kill him. You know the drill, just the two of you, no cops surrounding the place. You get me my money, I'll give you your Mountie." Frankie stepped back into the foyer of his home. "Meet me where it all began. You know the place." Frankie shut the door, decisively. Ray stood staring at the wood.

"Vecchio?"

"Yeah?"

"You know where Ben is?"

"Yeah."

"You mind sharing it with the class?"

"Basketball court." Ray swallowed. "Follow me."

"Where are we going to get that kind of money?" Kowalski began to panic. "I don't have access to that kind of cash, the department isn't going to fork it over…"

"Don't worry about the money."

* * *

Vecchio dropped the leather bag into the trunk of his car and slammed down the lid. Kowalski stared open mouthed at him over the hood of the car.

"Where'd you get that much money?"

"Does it matter? We want Benny back, right?" Vecchio turned the key and started the ignition. "The Feds made sure I was taken care of when I got home for doing my job and taking down one of the biggest mob families."

Kowalski shook his head, dazed. The Feds might have looked after Vecchio, but he couldn't believe that they gave him quarter of a million in cash. Now wasn't the time to argue though. Vecchio had the ransom, and he knew where Ben was. That was all that counted.

"I heard from Welsh. He said Mark's not talking. He's tight lipped about owing Zuko money and getting Ben involved. God, the bastard. Give up your friend to pay off your debts. He deserved to be shot."

"We don't get Benny back, he's not going to have to worry about a bullet killing him."

"You think Zuko will really give Ben up?"

"We have to trust him. It's our only choice."

Kowalski and Vecchio pushed through the gym door carefully. Zuko was already at the free throw line, impatiently bouncing the ball from one hand to the next.

"You boys are early. That's good." Zuko jumped into the air, shooting the ball toward the hoop. It hit the metal ring, followed the circular path of the hoop and fell off the side to the floor below. No score. The ball bounced on the court below the net. No one moved to collect it and it rolled to a stop against the padded wall. "What? Neither of you want to play a round?"

"We're not here to play games. We're here to get Ben back. Now, where the hell is he?"

"We've got your money, Frankie. I even threw in an extra fifty in case Smithbauer has any outstanding debts that come rolling in. Now where's Benny?"

"That's quite generous of you, Ray. I never took you to be a man of a generous nature."

"This isn't about me, Frankie. This is about getting my friend back. You're a man of your word, are you not? Now where is he?" Vecchio tossed the unzipped leather bag at Frankie's feet, exposing the tidy blocks of bills inside.

"Do you think it's hot in here?" Zuko asked as he pulled on the collar of his white t-shirt. He bent over and peered inside the bag, pleased with what he found. He picked up the bag with both hands and started walking backwards towards the opposite end of the court. Frankie looked up at the overhead railing and smirked at Kowalski and Vecchio. "You two wait here until I'm through these doors. If you don't, rest assured my men will take care of you and it won't matter if you get the Mountie back."

Kowalski took a step toward Zuko and Vecchio pulled him to a stop. "Let him go, Ray."

" _Where's Ben_?" Kowalski shouted at Zuko.

"Did I mention it's _hot_ in here?" Zuko smirked again before turning and fleeing the gym.

"What's he talking about?" Kowalski ran his hands through his hair frustrated. "It's fucking cold in here."

"I don't think he's talking about ' _hot in here_ ' as in the gym. I think he's talking about it's hot where Fraser is." Vecchio's stomach dropped. He remembered now when they were kids. Frankie had a special place where he would have his cronies beat the hell out of whatever kid he felt like picking on that day. A place where nobody ever went. Nobody except the chain smoking social studies teacher. A place where it was hot and loud and nobody could hear the poor kid's cry for help. "Oh God, the boiler room."

"Where is it?" Kowalski was already to the door of the gym.

"To the left, all the way to the end of the hall, last door on the right. Should be a big solid metal door. There's stairs that go down into the room." Vecchio followed Kowalski at a full sprint down the hall. He turned the handle and thanked the heavens above it was unlocked. The heat coming out of the room washed over him and he immediately felt dizzy.

" _Fraser!_ " Kowalski shouted as loud as he could. He took the stairs two at a time and hit the floor running. "God, it's hot in here. Fraser, where the hell are you? Make some noise, anything."

"Benny!" Vecchio joined the search around the pipes and equipment. Steam poured from the aged pipe joints, hissing in the air. It was loud and the air was thick. Vecchio found it difficult to breathe.

Kowalski turned to his left and there was Fraser hanging from his wrists, barely conscious. "Oh my God. _Ray, I found him!_ " Kowalski was at Fraser's side trying to support him, to get the weight off his damaged wrists. "You got a knife? We need to cut these ties." Vecchio dug through his pockets and pulled out the pocket knife Fraser had gotten him for his birthday when they first met. Vecchio moved to Fraser's ankles and cut those ties first. Kowalski wrapped his arms around Ben's waist and held him tight as Vecchio cut Fraser free. Fraser collapsed in Kowalski's arms and Vecchio moved to Fraser's other side to help lay him down. Kowalski struggled with the knot in the gag as his fingers trembled against Fraser's bloody cheek.

Vecchio stood up and backed away to give Kowalski room.

"Ray…" Fraser mumbled, once the gag was removed, barely able to speak. His right eye opened and then fluttered shut. His hands were beginning to burn as they filled with pins and needles. Ray was stroking the feeling back into them, hushing him.

"You're okay, Ben. We got you." Fraser's labored breathing and the deep cuts on his wrists were beginning to scare Kowalski.

"Jesus, Benny, what did they do to you?" Vecchio rubbed a hand over his balding head.

"Ray," Fraser choked out as he attempted to sit up. "Zuko…" His body was depleted of all remaining energy and his head fell back to the cement flooring, leaving a bloody impression.

"We know, Ben."

"Benny," Ray Vecchio's voice cracked. "Are you okay?"

"Does he _look_ okay?" Ray's arms tightened around Fraser's limp body. "We need to get him to a hospital. He's burning up." Ray tapped Fraser's cheek to get him to wake up. "Come on Ben, stay with me. Ray, help me get him to his feet."

Vecchio stood in shock at the appearance of his friend. He was going to kill Zuko and Smithbauer for doing this to Fraser. "I'm so sorry, Benny..."

" _Hey!_ " Kowalski hollered. "Snap out of it and help me."

Vecchio took hold of one of Fraser's arms and put it around his neck, Kowalski did the same with the other. They both got their feet under them and stood up, completely supporting Fraser. Fraser cried out as the pain washed through his body. They dragged him out of the boiler room and out into the cold, to Vecchio's new car.

Vecchio broke every speed limit and traffic law getting Fraser to the hospital in record time.

* * *

Vecchio sat slumped in the hard plastic chair in the emergency room while Kowalski paced from one end of the room to the other. "You need a coffee, Vecchio?" Ray asked as he made his way to the coffee pot on the other side of the room.

"For the tenth time, _no_." Vecchio leaned forward and dropped his head into his hands. "This was too easy."

" _Easy?_ You think it was easy for Ben?" Kowalski grimaced and stirred a fourth sugar packet into the black coffee and blew across the top before taking a small sip. "What do you mean?" he added in a slightly calmer voice as the much needed caffeine hit his stomach.

"Zuko wasn't after money, he was after blood. He gave Benny up way too easy."

"I don't get it. He got what he was after, right? He's the one who told us that Mark owed him money, Mark couldn't pay up and gave up Fraser to pay off his debt. Zuko knew that you would pay off Mark's debt to get Ben back, regardless of the amount." Ray's voice stayed carefully casual as he asked, "How did he know that you had that much money?"

Vecchio averted his eyes and stared hard at the tiled floor. "I told you, the Feds paid me well when I made it home."

' _That well?_ Really?' Kowalski thought to himself. He didn't think he'd get a straight answer out of Vecchio one way or the other and to be fair, the guy did just save Fraser's life. "You think he'll be back? Zuko that is?"

"Him or someone like him. I'm sure of it. Word's gonna get around, especially if Mark owes more people money."

"We'll just have to watch each other's backs." Kowalski stared into his coffee cup and walked over and took a seat next to Vecchio. "Hey," he softened his voice. "Thanks." Ray held his hand out to Vecchio. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't got the money."

"Benny wouldn't be lying in that hospital bed if I didn't have it. I have a sick feeling it wasn't a coincidence that Fraser and I ran into Mark outside that cafe."

"Yeah," Ray snorted in disgust. "I don't think any of it's a coincidence."

Vecchio and Kowalski were approached by the emergency room doctor. "Are you the men that brought in Benton Fraser?"

"Yeah," Kowalski stood up and stuck out his hand to greet the doctor. "I'm Detective Kowalski and this is my partner Detective Vecchio." It wasn't strictly true, Vecchio wasn't even working yet, but it felt true enough as Ray said it. "How's Ben?"

"Your friend is lucky you found him when you did. He's pretty banged up and going to be sore for quite a while. Definitely won't be running any marathons anytime soon. He has a concussion, cracked ribs, numerous abrasions to the face. He's dehydrated and has deep wounds to his wrists. Some required numerous stitches, I'm afraid. There is some ligament damage that should heal with time and some therapy."

"Jesus…" Kowalski threw a hand over his mouth before running his fingers through his hair. "They really did a number on him."

"Give him time and he will be okay. I'd like to keep him for a few days, get him re-hydrated and make sure there's no damage from the concussion. It looks like he took a nasty hit to the head with something."

"That would have been a hockey puck." Ray's understated bitterness didn't go unnoticed.

"Can we see him?" Vecchio asked from the plastic chair.

"Let the nurse get him settled into a room and you can go in."

"Okay, thank you, Doctor."

* * *

When Kowalski and Vecchio entered Fraser's hospital room, Fraser appeared to be struggling to find a comfortable position in the hard bed. Kowalski snagged the nearest chair and pulled it to the side of the bed. Fraser looked miserable. Ray wanted to hold him, caress his forehead, but it didn't look like there was an inch of skin Zuko's men didn't touch. Ray surveyed the damage his friend had endured. Ben's forehead was bandaged where the hockey puck had struck him, blood seeping through the white gauze. The tissue around his left eye was turning angry shades of purples and blues and his eye was still swollen shut. Both of his wrists were bandaged and even though the cuts had been stitched, blood still seeped through the sterile dressings. He'd have limited use with the ligament damage even after the cuts themselves healed. The doctor warned them Fraser might not know what had happened to him, but Ray wanted to hear that for himself.

"Benny," Vecchio beat Kowalski to the punch. "Do you remember what happened?"

Fraser shook his head and squeezed his good eye shut, wincing in pain. "No, I barely remember meeting Mark at the rink. He was in a weird mood." Fraser rubbed at his bandaged temple.

"How so?" Kowalski asked.

Fraser coughed and wet his cracked lips with his tongue in an attempt to sooth them. It didn't help. He coughed again, his dry throat irritated from the small amount of talking.

"You need some water?" Kowalski asked.

Fraser answered with a small nod.

Kowalski turned and poured some water from the pink plastic pitcher on the bed tray into a cup with a straw. He held it up for Fraser so he could take a few swallows. "Better?" Ray asked when Fraser laid his head back into the pillow.

"Thank you."

"No problem," Kowalski said as he returned the plastic cup to the tray.

"What was odd about Mark's behavior, Benny?" Vecchio asked as he paced a tight line behind Kowalski's chair.

Fraser shook his head trying to locate the memory from the day before. "We went to play hockey but he wasn't wearing any pads. And he kept going on about how much better I was at everything we've ever done together. I noticed he had some cuts on his face. Everything after that is blank."

"Do you know what happened to Mark?"

Fraser shook his head again. "No," he forced out the whisper. Talking was an unexpected effort. Fraser closed his eye and let his head rest on the pillow.

"Someone shot him, Benny." Fraser's good eye popped open darting back and forth between the two Rays.

"What?" Fraser asked horrified. "Do you know who?"

"We think it was Frankie. But Mark isn't talking."

"He's alive?" he asked shocked. It wasn't every day the mob left a witness alive.

"Yeah. He's down in the ICU. Doctor told us the ice kept him from bleeding to death."

"Look what happens when you listen to yourself, Benny. I told you Mark was bad news. He has a major gambling problem and borrowed money from the wrong guy to pay off his debts. Frankie knew he'd never pay."

"What's that got to do with me?"

For once Vecchio fell silent, his gaze slipping away, as though the shadows in the corner of the room were fascinating.

"Zuko knew if he kidnapped you, Vecchio would pay anything to get you back. Kowalski jerked his chin in Vecchio's direction. His gaze was unreadable - or maybe Fraser was too tired to decipher it. Ray continued, calmly enumerating the facts. He gave Mark an easy out, just hand you over and his debt to him would be taken care of. He'd be free and clear, so to speak."

"Mark would never…"

"Mark _did_ , Benny," Vecchio burst back into the conversation, practically vibrating with outrage. "One of these days you're just going to have to accept that people change. They grow up and they aren't that thirteen year old kid you used to shoot hockey pucks with on a frozen pond."

"Hey, Vecchio, that's enough." Kowalski warned with a raised hand. There was no reason for Vecchio to be badgering Fraser now of all times.

"Look, I'm sorry, but it's the truth." Vecchio shoved his hands into his pockets and blew out a breath. "I need to get some air. I'll be back later, Benny."

"Ray, please…" Fraser protested but Vecchio had already left and shut the door behind him.

"Hey," Kowalski took hold of Fraser's hand and stroked the tops of his fingers. He ghosted his thumb over the bandages. "Don't worry about Vecchio, okay. He's just worried about you and he's not dealing too well with all of this."

"I'm sorry, Ray."

"Stop, okay? You didn't do anything wrong."

"It was my idea to go see Mark again."

"Not your fault, okay? You were just trying to be someone's friend."

"It wasn't enough, was it? Mark wanted more."

"Yeah, I'm afraid he did." Kowalski gave Ben a small smile. "Try and get some rest okay?"

"I want to see Mark." Fraser tried to sit up only to find Ray pressing him back into the bed with a single palm to the chest.

"When you can open that other eye and it takes more than one hand for me to push you back down, then yes, I'll take you down there. Until then, it will have to wait."

* * *

It was two days before Fraser could open his left eye. After pestering Ray long enough, he managed to get him to agree to let him see Mark. Kowalski helped him to the edge of the bed and swung his feet carefully to the floor. "I want to go alone," Fraser said through clenched teeth. It still hurt to move, let alone think about Mark's betrayal. "He won't talk to me if anyone else is there. And I need to hear for myself why he did it." This wasn't the first time he had been betrayed by someone who said they loved him.

"Ben," Ray hung his head. "Please don't do this to yourself."

"I'll find out who shot him," Fraser tried to convince Ray. "And then you can go arrest them."

"Fine. I'll be here when you get back. And then I'll take you home."

Fraser padded slowly down the hospital corridor relying heavily on the railing on the wall for support. He was a giant bruise from his head to his ankles. Thank God Zuko's men had left his socks on when they tied him to that pole or he probably wouldn't be able to walk. Even his fingers hurt. The doctors said it was trauma radiating from the ligaments of his wrists. He didn't like to look at his wrists, to think of the scars he would bear for the rest of his life. To a stranger it would look as though he had attempted suicide. The stitches formed a savage line across skin so badly lacerated, muscles so bruised and injured that the simple act of brushing his teeth was nearly impossible. Every time a nurse came in to change the bandages, he had to force himself to look away. His injuries were too gruesome to bear looking at. He was thankful the socks had saved his ankles.

Fraser stood outside Mark's door and froze. This was his friend and yet his friend had betrayed him in the worst way. Even Victoria's abuse hadn't felt as bad as this. In some way, he always felt he deserved that, even though he could never see what he could have done differently. But Mark - he had never done anything to Mark to warrant this. Fraser took a deep breath as he steeled himself and softly knocked on the door. It was already open so he quietly stepped inside. Mark's room was freezing compared to his and Fraser shivered. Even in his sweats and sweatshirt, he was cold. In the bed, Mark was staring blankly at the ceiling.

"Mark," Fraser spoke quietly as to not startle his friend. Could he still call him that after what he had done?

"Yeah?" Mark dropped his cheek into his pillow and stared at the door. Fraser could have sworn Mark was looking right through him.

"Is it okay if I visit?"

"Can't believe you'd want to after what I did."

Fraser wasn't so sure either. "How are you feeling?"

Mark shrugged as best he could. "Could be better, could be worse. They tell me I've developed an infection. Nice huh? Zuko's bullet didn't kill me, now I have to worry about a damn bug doing me in."

"So, he is the one that shot you then. Ray wasn't sure he was the one who actually pulled the trigger."

"Yeah, can't say I didn't deserve it though." Mark fiddled with the worn hem of the blanket covering him. It was cold in his room and yet he was sweating. He was running a fever and struggling to breathe. "I'm sorry, Ben," Mark croaked out, his voice hoarse and quiet. "Zuko told me he wouldn't hurt you." He worked up the courage to finally meet Ben's eyes. "I was foolish enough to think…" he looked away again and his voice dropped to a near whisper. "This is hard to say."

Fraser waited patiently. He knew whatever it was, he couldn't bully it out of Mark.

"It wasn't just about the money," Mark finally admitted. "I mean, it was about that too... but it was also…" He coughed or laughed, it was hard to tell and continued. "I had some dumb notion that if I got to rescue you, maybe you'd look at me the way you... the way you look at Ray."

Fraser's mouth dropped open.

"Yeah," Mark turned his head away. "I know. I'm an idiot. You never lied to me. I knew you didn't feel about me the way I do about you. But... I was desperate. I'd have done anything to get you. And I was foolish enough to believe Zuko."

"He's a criminal, did you really believe that he could be trusted?"

"He told me all I had to do was get you to the rink and he would take care of the rest. He'd make sure nothing happened to you and once Vecchio payed up, I could come in and save you. A win win for everyone. I didn't think it would go as far as it did."

"You knocked me out with a hockey puck." Fraser shook his head. "That alone could have killed me."

"I know. I couldn't think of another way. Like I said, I was desperate, Ben. I tried to back out of it, tried to come up with another way to pay Zuko off… but his men made sure I didn't back out."

"That's where the cuts came from…"

Mark rubbed his fingers over his cheekbone, feeling the damage. "Yeah. Things have been going bad for me, for years now. Seemed like I lost everything, my career, my reputation… _you_. And it all got mixed up. I owed him so much money. And... he knew how I felt about you. I realize now he was laughing at me all along. But… I thought it was a solution to everything. He said he wouldn't lay a finger on you. That he just wanted his money."

"Well, he got it." Fraser sighed and winced as he rubbed at his bandaged eyebrow. "And he was right, he didn't lay a finger on me. His hired men did the beating for him." Mark appeared taken aback at the frankness in Fraser's voice. "You can't walk away from this one, Mark. You're going to have to deal with the consequences of what you did."

"He shot me, isn't that enough for you?"

"It's not something I would have ever wanted for you. Mark, _you_ need to get some help. Let me help you."

"After everything I've done to you, you still want to help me? Why?"

"Because I believe in second chances." Ben pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. He was still emotionally fragile after his own ordeal. The last thing he wanted to do was break down in front of Mark. "All those years ago, you were the only one who wanted to be friends with the shy new kid. Nobody else would give me the time of day because I was different from them." He paused again and took a breath. "I was the kid with grandparents to raise me when everyone else had normal parents. I was the one who got called in to study and read when everyone else got to play until the wee hours. I was the one who was different and... _you_ were the only one who saw past all that. You were my best friend back then, Mark, and ever since I've been holding on to the hope that one day you could be that person again." Ben's voice, already sympathetic, gentled. "It's not too late."

"I'm sorry, Ben." Mark tried to clear his throat but his voice came out cracked anyway. "You always were a better friend than me."

Fraser blinked back tears. "Mark," he said, "it will be alright. I'll help you get help."

"Not this time," Mark gave Ben a small smile and closed his eyes.

He never opened them again.

* * *

Kowalski had convinced Fraser to stay with him when he was released from the hospital on the second day. Ray was relieved that Fraser didn't put up too much of a fight for once about being all independent and 'I can take care of myself'. At the same time it made him nervous. It showed how much Fraser hurt, if he couldn't even summon the energy to argue about where he would stay.

Ben was sitting on the couch and Ray had taken a seat on the coffee table in front of him. Ray opened the cap to Fraser's miracle ointment and wrinkled his nose. "God this stuff stinks," he complained and made another face. "You won't have to worry about an infection killing you because the smell alone would do you in first."

Fraser stared at him numbly.

"Oh God, Ben." Ray dropped his head forward and cursed. "Shit, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking." How could he have let the small joke slip when Mark had just died of an infection two days ago?

"It's okay." Fraser gave up a sad smile and tried to distract himself by removing the bandage around his left wrist. He let out a short hiss from the pain when the dried blood stuck to the gauze pad. "Dammit," he let the curse roll off his tongue. "Are they ever going to heal?" his hands began to shake as he tried to unwrap the other wrist. He couldn't get his fingers to do what his brain was telling them.

"Hey," Ray took his trembling hands and held them loosely in his own. "It's only been a few days. These cuts are pretty deep. Give them some time, okay."

Fraser pressed his lips together and concentrated on his breathing. He snuck his tongue out to wet his cracked lips and wished he had some ointment for them as well.

"Ben," Ray reached up and ghosted a thumb over Fraser's bruised cheek. Ray thought the beating Fraser took at the hands of Warfield's men was bad enough, but the pounding Zuko's men gave him made the first look like a walk in the park. "I'm sorry but I have to put this smelly stuff on your wrists so they don't get infected or scar."

"I know. It just hurts."

"I'll try my best to be careful." Ray began applying the ointment. Now that he could see the cuts and abrasions up close, he wasn't too sure that they wouldn't scar, regardless of how much of the miracle ointment he put on them.

"How much?" Fraser asked out of the blue as Ray doctored his wrists.

Ray shrugged his shoulders, concentrating on the task at hand. "I don't know. Shouldn't take too much, just enough to cover the cuts."

Fraser shook his head and pulled his hands away from Ray. "No, how much did Ray pay?"

'Oh God.' Ray faltered. He should have known this was coming. Of course as Fraser got better, he would start asking questions. But why did he have to ask _him?_ Why couldn't he ask Vecchio?

"Ray?" Fraser's voice was patient. Ray knew what that meant. Patient Fraser could out stubborn God.

"He, uh. He paid a lot."

"How much?" Ben stretched his hands back out to Ray so he could finish his task. Ray blinked. It almost looked like Fraser was pleading for an answer.

"Uh..."

"Please, Ray. I need to know."

"Why?"

"Please…"

"He, uh." Nothing to do but tell the truth. "He paid Zuko three hundred thousand dollars. That's how much Mark owed him."

Fraser's eyes went blank and he nodded, wordlessly. Yeah, Ray got that. A lot to take in. Fraser didn't know how to process what Ray had sacrificed to save him.

"Sorry, Buddy."

"And..." Fraser's voice was a whisper. "How did Ray have that kind of money?"

"I, uh..." Ray could guess but he didn't _know._ "I don't got a clue, Ben."

"You have some idea."

"What if I do, Fraser? He saved your life."

"Yes." Fraser didn't sound very happy about it. "Yes, he did."

"He kept telling me the Feds paid him well." Ray avoided Fraser's eyes and concentrated on applying the ointment. "Who was I to question him? I got my own chunk of change when Vecchio came home. It just wasn't enough. You know? I don't give a damn where he got it. All I care is that you're safe now."

"Ray…"

"Just let it go, Ben."

Ben fell silent. After a few moments it became obvious that he wasn't going to push it anymore and Ray breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe they'd never have to talk about this again. Because if Ray Vecchio hadn't had the money, Ben would be dead. Zuko didn't play favorites.

Ray finished applying the new gauze and forced a triumphant smile. He didn't gag once.

"Thank you." Fraser gave Ray a small smile.

Whether it was for doctoring his wrists or the information he had given up, Ray wasn't sure. He leaned forward and kissed Fraser gently on the lips. "You're welcome."

Ray gathered up the supplies to put back in the bathroom. "How are you feeling? Still nauseous and dizzy?" With the exception of his hands, the concussion seemed to be taking the biggest toll on Fraser.

Fraser leaned his head back on the couch and closed his eyes, bandaged hands resting uselessly on the cushions to either side. "Both." As long as he didn't turn his head too fast in any given direction or try to bend over to pick something up, he was almost fine.

There was a knock at the door and Fraser groaned. He didn't want any company, didn't want Ray to have any company. He just wanted to lay back down on the couch and never move again.

"That should be Vecchio. He's going to stay with you until I get back."

"You're leaving?" 'Ray,' Fraser thought, bleakly. ' _Ray Vecchio._ ' He didn't know what to say to his friend. Whether to thank him or ask him who the hell he'd pissed off to get that kind of money. Fraser struggled to sit up. He didn't want his Ray to leave yet. And he didn't know how to be alone with Ray Vecchio. There was no way he could ever repay him.

"It's just for a few hours, Ben. Welsh needs me to come in and give a report on what happened at the basketball court." Ray opened the door and let Vecchio into his apartment.

"Hey, how is he today?" Vecchio asked as he took off his long coat and hung it up.

"He's not doing too good." Ray glanced to the couch. Fraser had already laid back down. "He hasn't moved too much from the couch. I think he's pretty numb from Mark's death. Knowing Ben, he blames himself."

"Well that's irrational. Benny didn't gamble away Zuko's money."

"I know. Look, I just redid the bandages around his wrists. And just so you know… he asked about the money."

"Oh God. What did you tell him?"

"I told him to let it go. He was safe now. That's all that mattered."

"Thanks," Vecchio muttered. "For, you know. Not making a big deal of it."

"It's a huge deal. You saved his life."

"Jeez. Don't get all mushy about it." Vecchio smiled, almost convincingly. "Go on. Do what you gotta do. And don't forget to bring back dinner. Chinese or something. Benny can't cook, I can't be bothered to cook, and I know what your cooking's like."

Ray laughed. "You know, for a guest you got no manners."

"So, he's asleep now?" Vecchio changed the subject. "Has he taken his pain meds?" Ray nodded and Vecchio winced. "He must be feeling pretty bad if he's done that."

"Yeah. It wouldn't surprise me if he sleeps for a while. He's hurting pretty bad. He's been taking the meds without complaining, but he's still in quite a bit of pain. He's not supposed to do anything with his hands either." Ray looked at Vecchio seriously and dropped his voice. "I think he's taking Mark's death harder than he's letting on." He grabbed his coat and shook it into place. "Make yourself at home, Vecchio. I won't be too long. Few hours maybe. I'll bring back dinner."

"Just a heads up," Vecchio lowered his voice and moved closer to Kowalski. "Welsh called me and said that when they went to arrest Zuko, his entire entourage had vanished. Whole house was empty."

"Great."

"No kidding, right?" Vecchio clapped Kowalski on the shoulder as he opened the door. "Hey, how about I wash a load of dishes for you so we can have something to eat off of when you get back. You need a maid Kowalski."

"You applying for the position?"

"Leave smart-ass before I give you a knuckle sandwich." Vecchio pushed a grinning Kowalski out the door before closing it behind him. He walked slowly into the living room and found Fraser asleep on the couch or pretending to be. Either way, he wasn't going to wake him up to have a conversation he didn't want to have anyway. He returned to the kitchen and found Kowalski's supply of coffee and started a pot. He then turned his attention towards the sink and the few coffee mugs lining the bottom of it. So he exaggerated a bit when he said Kowalski was a slob. There were all of three mugs in the sink along with a couple of cereal bowls. He filled the opposite sink with soapy water. He needed something to distract him from the man asleep on the couch and the renewed hatred he felt towards Frankie Zuko.

* * *

Ray rubbed a hand across his forehead. He couldn't figure out why he felt so groggy. He had been having a dream about him and Fraser. They were kissing on his couch, their hands exploring each others bodies as clothing was being discarded to the floor… _no_ that couldn't be right. Because Fraser had just been beaten to a bloody pulp and… Kowalski opened his eyes and squinted in the dark. There was a strange green glow surrounding him. He sat up quickly, his head smacking into something solid. His skull snapped backwards when it cracked against the obstruction. "Ow fuck," he cursed as he rubbed his hand across his forehead again. He opened his eyes again and tried to sit up again, slower this time but found he was unable. He turned his head and found an activated glow stick by his side. He picked it up with trembling fingers. It illuminated the area around him. It looked like he was encased in something. Ray pushed on the panel above him. It didn't budge. He tapped on the side of the box with his knuckles and then with his foot. Whatever it was, it was solid. His heart began to race, his breathing quickened. The box appeared to be clear. Ray held the glow stick up to the side of the box again. That looked like… _dirt._ _'Oh my God.'_

He was trapped. Buried alive in a clear box.

A _coffin_.

"God, no!" Panic set in as Ray beat and kicked the walls, struggling to get free. Ray tried to turn over and found he didn't have any extra room. He only had a few spare inches before his shoulders hit each side of the box. How deep was he buried? He studied the top of the box and saw no daylight. Unless it was night and he couldn't see. He stole a glance at his wrist. His watch was missing. _'Fan-fucking-tastic,_ ' he sobbed. Now, he really had no concept of time. And he didn't have a clue how long he had been out cold. There was no way he was getting free on his own.

Panic overwhelmed him again. He pounded furiously on the top of the box screaming for help. His knuckles started to bleed. He raised his head and could barely see the tips of his shoes. Ray let his head fall back and he pushed on the lid with all his might. He began kicking his feet and thrashing his elbows against the sides of the box. Ear piercing pleas for help left his mouth, bouncing off the glass that pushed in on him from all sides. It didn't matter. No one could hear him.

* * *

Fraser woke up feeling lethargic, in too much pain and not wanting to move. He needed to use the bathroom but wasn't sure he'd be able to make it there without assistance. He looked around the room, trying to get his eyes to focus. It was late and dark and Ray Vecchio was sound asleep in the armchair. Fraser wondered where Ray was but imagined he'd been roped into overtime. He settled back into the comfort of Ray's couch, trying to ignore the burning sensation building in his wrists. He could wait a while longer without pain meds.

The next time he woke up, it was almost morning. Vecchio was still asleep in the chair. 'He's probably going to have sore neck,' Fraser thought as he sat up groggily. He looked around the room. Surely Vecchio would have left if...

He cleared his throat, trying not to startle Vecchio but desperate to wake him up.

Vecchio grumbled something incoherent and stretched. He sat up slowly, complaining about a knot in his shoulder. "Benny? What time is it?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing…" the nervous tremor in his voice didn't go unnoticed.

Vecchio looked at his watch. "Shit, where the hell is Kowalski?"

"You mean he's not back yet?"

"No, I was expecting him hours ago and then I fell asleep." Vecchio glanced at his watch and frowned. It was later than he had thought. Fraser had been asleep on the couch most of the time he had been there. Something which Ray was grateful for. He still wasn't sure how to talk to Benny about Smithbauer or anything else for that matter.

Fraser yawned and stretched as best he could before groaning in pain. He noticed Ray staring at his watch. "What's wrong?" he noted the worried look on his friend's face.

Vecchio didn't want to worry him, but… "He should have been back already. And he hasn't called. This seems strangely familiar, Benny."

"What do you mean?" Fraser sat up quickly, ignoring the pain radiating from his wrists and ribs. He closed his eyes quickly when the room began to spin. When he felt sure he wasn't going to throw up, he opened his eyes slowly.

"You okay?" Vecchio asked concerned. "Benny?" His friend was sweating, wincing a little as he attempted to move.

Fraser shook his head. "Yeah, I'm fine," he lied. Fraser let out a slow steady breath. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure, probably nothing. But this feels like deja-vu all over again." Vecchio contemplated calling Welsh to see what the hold-up was, but then he didn't want to worry Fraser by acting all paranoid.

Vecchio jumped when his cell phone rang. "Hello?" He was praying it was Kowalski, but a bad feeling was eating the lining of his stomach.

"Hello, Ray." The voice was robotic, mechanized. "Or should I say _Armando_?"

"Who is this?" Ray's knuckles whitened against the phone gripped in his hand, but his voice remained calm.

"Frank Zuko isn't the only one who wants his money back."

Vecchio paled.

"You remember where all the bodies are buried, don't you, Armando? Another one was added last night. Clock starts when I hang up the phone. You've got eight hours to get me my family's money back and find your other half or should I say your friend's _friend_ … runs out of air. You gave up money to Frank Zuko pretty easily to get your Mountie friend back. You've got a choice. Give up what you stole from my family or live with the guilt of having Ray Kowalski's death on your hands? You know the Mountie will never forgive you if he dies. Can you live with that guilt? What's it going to be? I'll call you in four hours and give you instructions on where to leave my money."

The line went dead. Vecchio turned to look at Fraser. 'Oh God, Benny's got bat ears. Benny heard...'

"Ray," Benny's face was white and terrified. "What the hell did you _do?"_

Vecchio stood up and began pacing, rubbing his hands down his face and over his head. _'Jesus',_ he thought to himself. What was he going to do? He didn't have the money they thought he had. He did, but he _didn't_. It was locked up so damn tight that he'd be dead before anyone ever saw a penny. And what he _did_ have, was now in Zuko's grimy paws.

"Ray," Fraser's frantic voice cut through his jumbled thoughts. "Where is Ray? What did you _do_?" Fraser took a step back when Vecchio stopped pacing and stared at him. "Oh my God, you stole from the mob didn't you?"

Ray couldn't even bear to answer that. "I need to get a plane." He ransacked his memory for which of his contacts he could trust for this. The airport would take too long. He needed a private jet. Not the Feds, they would fuck everything up. Who then?

"Where are we going?" Fraser's desperate voice interrupted his thoughts again.

"The police commissioner!" Thank God, yes. He had known about Ray's undercover job and he wouldn't ask too many questions if he thought this was still important to the undercover assignment.

"I don't mean that!" Fraser was practically shouting. "Why do we need a plane? Where are we _going?"_

"Vegas."

"I'm going with you."

"No, you're not. It's too dangerous. I need to do this alone."

"Don't you think you've done enough alone?"

'Christ. I deserve that.' "Benny, you're in no shape to be going anywhere. You can barely stand up. You can't even hold onto a spoon."

"You're not going to stop me. I'll go without you."

"And where would you even start looking? Huh? You don't have a fucking clue about the Mob. Not a fucking clue.

"I'm going with you." Fraser stood his ground.

Ray hung his head forward and blew out a long frustrated breath. "Fine, we'll stop and get Welsh."

* * *

"You still haven't told me what you've done." Fraser was staring out the rented car's window into the night sky. The stars were shining bright in the darkening sky against the Nevada desert backdrop. Much brighter than they ever shone within the Chicago city limits.

Vecchio glanced in the rear view mirror at Welsh who seemed interested in an answer as well. "Look, I had to make sure my family was taken care of if anything happened to me. I couldn't count on the Feds to make sure that happened. We all know the death benefits for a cop barely cover a funeral let alone a mortgage."

"You stole from the Langoustini family, Vecchio? Are you _insane_?" Welsh shook his head in the back seat.

"Hey!" Ray glared at his ex-boss in the rear view mirror. "Of course I'm fucking insane! Why else did I go undercover in the first place? You think if I _was_ sane, I'd have taken that suicide mission? And don't judge me until you find yourself in my shoes. There's no guarantee you're ever going to make it home." Vecchio had a death grip on the steering wheel. Maybe Welsh would have done the same thing, maybe not. But he did what _he_ had to do. "Besides, it's not like I stole…" Vecchio was cut off by his ringing phone. "Hello?"

"Do you have my money?"

Ray nearly lost control of the car.

"Vecchio!" Welsh bellowed from the back seat and Ray pulled the wheel back round, dragging the heavy vehicle back onto the road.

'Oh my God,' he thought, gut twisting in despair. "Amelia."

"Who's Amelia?" Fraser asked, his voice tight. Vecchio flicked a glance at him, giving a tiny shake of his head. Too late. Amelia had heard him.

"Is that your friend? _Benny_?" Her voice was as warm as always, smooth as honey in his ear. How the hell had she known he called him 'Benny?' Had she been following him ever since he got back from Vegas? Had he talked in his sleep?

"Answer me, Armando."

"I guess you know now. That's not my name."

"It's the name I knew you by. It's the name you had when I fell in love with you."

It was all Ray could do not to squeeze his eyes shut. He'd loved her too.

Maybe there was a chance...

"This isn't you." 'Keep her talking, be a cop, just one more time in your stupid fucking life.' "You don't have to do this," he pleaded. Time was all he had to whisper in her ear. She'd have done anything for him. He'd have done anything for her. She had been the one safe haven he had in Vegas. Yeah, he'd kept secrets from her, but he'd never had to _plead._

He couldn't help it though. His voice was shaking and he pleaded. "Please, Amelia, don't do this."

"Don't be silly, Armando." She sounded sad. "I have no choice."

God. Now he knew how Benny felt when it was Victoria fucking him up. He brushed the memory aside. "Please, just… tell us where he is."

"You _know_ where he is."

Yeah. Yeah, he did. He was just hoping he was wrong.

"Just... don't..."

His brain went blank. He'd been going to ask her not to do something, but it had slid right out of his head.

"Don't what, Armando?"

No. It was gone, down the same black hole his worst Vegas memories went.

"Why are you doing this? It isn't the money, is it? If I had the money, you know I'd give it to you. You're just making me drive across the desert because... why? Because it's _funny?"_

"You don't have the money?" she asked not completely surprised. She already knew he had given Frank Zuko a big chunk of change. Ray groaned. He should never have admitted that. "Oh, Armando." Her sultry voice turned sharp as fingernails drawn down a chalkboard. Ray shuddered. "What a shame."

"Look, please, Amelia. I don't have what you think I have. I had to liquidate all of my cash to give to Frank Zuko."

"So, you've got nothing to offer me? That's a shame, my poor Armando. Looks like someone is going to pay off _your_ debt by dying tonight." Her voice sounded genuinely regretful. "Hope you brought your shovel, not that I think you will get to him in time. We bury the bodies deeper now. Look in the glove box. There's a number in it. How about you give it a call and see who you reach."

Vecchio reached across Fraser's lap and opened the glove box and pulled out an envelope. Jesus, she had predicted their every move. Manipulated _everything_. She'd even got to their rental car before they did, to put this envelope in. Ray had always known she was clever… he'd completely underestimated her. His fingers cold and shaking he handed it to Fraser and mouthed _'Open it_.' Fraser fumbled with the envelope before he was able to tear it open. There was a phone number written neatly on a pink piece of paper. Fraser gave Vecchio a confused look.

"Clock starts now since you don't have anything for me."

'Oh God,' Ray thought. 'Keep her talking. The longer she's on the phone the longer she's not… doing whatever she's doing to Kowalski.'

"Amelia, you know I always tried to protect you from..."

"From the nastier side of the ' _business_ '? Yes, I know." She sounded amused.

"Not just business," his voice came out in a rush. He was saying all this with his boss in the car, his best friend in the car. He was hanging himself. Once this came out, he would never work again. Benny would never speak to him again. He said it anyway. "I protected you from the law. Everyone else went down… _you didn't_. You have to know I loved you."

"Of course I know. And you never once raised your voice to me. You never once lifted a hand to me. I always knew you were an imposter, Ray Vecchio. I made you from the start." Her voice shook for a moment. "I protected you too. I never told a soul what I knew."

"Amelia..."

She interrupted, her voice hardening. "Besides. You got the job done and you were a better husband and lover than Armando ever was. It was finally nice being married to a mob boss. All of the perks, none of the abuse. Not once was I ever scared of you. I didn't have to be afraid in my own home any more."

'Oh God, I should have known. _Amelia_. Of course she made me.' "Thank you, Amelia," he said, his voice rough. "I didn't know you knew, but I owe you my life, so..."

"Don't butter me up, Armando." Her voice was clipped. "I know how you operate. Smooth as honey, then the sting. I'm not one of your patsies."

"No, no… I never said you were…"

"And don't flatter yourself. I didn't do it all for love. I wanted to see how good you were, how far you were willing to go." She paused, then gave a light laugh. "You know, you actually made us more money than Armando ever did. Not sure how you managed to pull it off, but you did. He was a clever man. You were cleverer. I was _so_ confident I could convince you to change. You were so good at it. How could you not see that this was better than a crummy policeman's salary? A better way of life." She sighed. "Guess I was wrong. I fell in love with you... you _bastard_. And that was _my_ mistake. Then, I realized what you had done. I found your second ledger. You had a backup plan and it didn't involve me." Her voice was implacable. "That was _your_ mistake. Goodbye, Ray." The line went dead.

Jesus. Had he bought Kowalski enough time? He should have kept her talking...

Vecchio handed the phone to Fraser. "Hurry up, call the number on that piece of paper."

"Who is it?" Fraser asked as he began pushing the buttons, ignoring the pain radiating from his fingertips.

"I don't know, just call it." Vecchio gripped the steering wheel tighter. The roads into the dessert were getting narrower and rougher. He needed to focus on not getting them killed.

"It's ringing," Fraser said as he held Vecchio's cell phone next to his ear.

" _Help me!_ " someone screamed into Fraser's ear startling him. He almost dropped the phone. "Help!" the voice was frantic, the voice was panicking, the voice was…

" _Ray?_ " Fraser's stomach dropped.

"Ben, I'm trapped. _Help me_!" Kowalski was sobbing into the phone. Fraser could hear thumping and banging as Kowalski desperately beat on some obstruction. Fraser tried to place it, to put together the clues. Ray was beating against a wall, a door, a... "I can't get out. I don't know where I am."

"Ray, listen to me, you need to calm down."

"I'm buried in the fucking box!"

A _box_? Oh God. They _buried_ him…

Ray's voice continued, panicked on the phone. "Don't tell me to call down!"

"We're coming to get you. Ray knows where you are."

"It's cold Ben," Ray's anger was replaced by sobs, his voice shaking so hard that Fraser knew instinctively how cold it was, that he was shivering. He could feel the chill himself. Nights in the Nevada desert got cold quick. "And it's getting darker, my light's going out."

"We're coming, Ray. I _promise_."

"I can't breathe. I need air. My legs are numb. Both my feet have fallen asleep." Kowalski's voice was trembling. "Oh, God, Ben, I'm sorry… I should have been more careful."

"Don't be, you did nothing wrong." Fraser tried to keep his voice calm and steady for Ray's sake, but inside he was full of fury.

"Ben, the glow stick's dying. Jesus, I'm going to be trapped here and I won't be able to see anything."

"Ray, we're coming to get you, I promise."

"I can't breathe." Fraser could hear the fear building in Ray's frantic voice.

"You won't run out of air. You've been gone for a while. There has to be an additional air source. Just hang in there, okay. I love you. Ray knows where you are. Is there another glow stick? A flashlight?"

Kowalski felt around blindly. His trembling fingers landed on two objects. He picked up the smaller of the two and brought it closer to his eyes. "There's a lighter. I can use it to see."

"No!" Fraser screamed into the phone. "Don't use it, Ray. It will use up oxygen."

Ray knew immediately what the second object was the moment his fingers touched it. 'Oh God… a gun, and not just any, his own. "Ben, I have my gun. Why would they leave me my gun?"

Fraser began to panic. "Ray, listen to me. Push the gun as far away from your hands as you can. Shove it all the way to the end of the box. Don't even think about it. Don't even look at it."

"Ben…" Kowalski went silent for a moment and Fraser had feared the phone had gone dead.

"Ray? Ray! Answer me!"

"Oh my God, Ben… there's water or something coming in. I'm going to drown in here. That's why they left my gun."

"How much water, Ray? How fast is it coming in?"

"I don't know. I can't see it I can just feel it running up my back. Everything's getting wet. The backs of my legs are wet."

Fraser looked sideways at Vecchio horror on his face. "Drive faster or he's going to drown."

"Drown?" How do you drown in the desert? And then the shoe fell and Vecchio remembered this was Langoustini's trademark. 'Jesus, how could I forget that?' Vomit rose in his throat and he tried to push it back down with all the memories. He'd managed to forget so much. Why did he have to remember it now? Maybe because it was the only way they could save Kowalski's life.

God, he hated Langoustini.

'Bastards.' Ray's foot ached from pushing so hard. 'Not only do they scare the shit out of the person, burying them alive and giving them air and false hope, but then they fill the box slowly with water and the poor fucker has to die a horrible death.

"Ben, I can't do it…" Kowalski's voice was quivering. "You know how much I hate the water. Take away all my air... just, _please_ don't let me drown."

Fraser turned to Vecchio. "How close are we?" He could hear the sloshing of the water as Ray struggled in the box.

"Five minutes." Vecchio pushed the accelerator further to the floor.

Welsh was in the back seat phoning the local authorities requesting assistance. "Better get an ambulance as well. We've got a cop buried in a box that's filling with water. We don't know how that's going to turn out."

"Ray, listen to me. You just need to hold on for five more minutes. That's it. Five lousy minutes. It took us longer to swim underwater on the Henry Allen." Fraser paused, trying to stop his voice from shaking. He needed to be calm for Ray, to distract him. He prayed his voice would help anchor Ray to some kind of hope. He swallowed and kept talking. "We're so close. Don't give up on me."

" _Ben_ …" Ray's voice was pleading. "It's in my ears. I can't… I'm tired. I can't hold my head up, can't keep the phone out of the wa…" Kowalski coughed. "I can't do this…" He spit water out of his mouth and made a decision. "I'm sorry, Ben. I love you. Never forget that."

"Ray don't talk like that. Three minutes, Ray."

"I can't…" In two seconds, Fraser was going to hate him. "I'm sorry, Ben…"

"Ray? Ray!" Two shots rang out and the line went dead. _"No!"_ Fraser heard himself scream. The phone dropped through his nerveless fingers onto the floorboard.

Vecchio heard the shots as well, his heart leaping into his throat. ' _Oh God. We're too late_.' "Benny?"

"If Ray's dead. I will _never_ forgive you." Fraser's voice was bleak and unforgiving.

Vecchio said nothing. If Kowalski died, he wouldn't forgive himself either.

* * *

Vecchio pulled the rental off the road, throwing the gear shifter into park. He flicked on the hi-beams to illuminate the dark night. Flinging his door open, he pointed to the five sets of double stacked rocks. "Last one on the far left. It wasn't here last time." A couple of days ago, Fraser could barely walk, his every muscle hurt so bad. Now he took off at a full sprint towards the rocks while Welsh joined Vecchio at the back of the car. Vecchio opened the trunk and handed Welsh a shovel, grabbing the remaining two. He tossed Welsh a flashlight as well. "Here, we're gonna need these." How Fraser was going to dig with his injured wrists, he wasn't sure, but he sure as hell wasn't going to try and stop him. Fraser was on his hands and knees in the sand, digging blindly. The sand gave way to mud, which he scooped up and threw over his shoulders as if it was nothing.

"Water," Fraser gasped. "Where's the water coming from?"

Welsh came up behind him and put a solid hand on his shoulder. "Here, use this. It will go quicker."

"Stay to the left," Vecchio ordered. "It won't be any wider than the rock." The men were digging frantically, sand and dark clods of mud flying in all directions.

The sound of sirens could be heard in the distance and Welsh prayed it was the cavalry coming to their aid. They were going to need all the help they could get, especially if Kowalski was still alive. 'Water,' Fraser thought again, desperately. 'Mud in the desert. That has to mean something.'

Thump. Welsh's shovel hit something hard. He scooped a shovel full of sand and heaved it to the side. Thump. He hit it again. "Hey, I think I've reached it. I've hit something." He jabbed his shovel into the hole again, striking the hard surface each time. "You need to come back this way."

Fraser was digging as fast as he could when his shovel hit the hard surface as well. He bent down and swiped his bloodied hand across the sand revealing the top of the box. "Oh my God, this is it." He could see water sloshing around in the box, Ray's jeans brushing up against the lid of the box. Sloshing water… _that meant_ … "Keep digging!" he ordered as he heaved shovel after shovel full of sand to the side. Both of his wrists were bloodied from the strain of shoveling. The stitches were torn, the gauze saturated with a mixture of sand and blood. Fraser didn't feel the physical pain.

Vecchio heard the pounding first and stopped shoveling. Something was vibrating under his feet. "Wait, stop for a second." Fraser was digging like a madman. " _Benny_ ," Vecchio grabbed his shovel.

"What are you doing?" Fraser demanded wrenching his shovel away from Vecchio.

"Listen. There's thumping. Can you feel it? What is that?"

Fraser moved a pile of sand with his boot revealing Ray's midsection. His fists were pounding furiously on the lid of the box. _"Help me!"_ he was screaming. It cost him though, for every time he opened his mouth to yell for help, it filled with water instead. The water was splashing over his face as his body struggled in the water.

"We're here, Ray," Fraser knelt down on the lid. Fingers scrabbling against the glass as he brushed the sand away to reveal Kowalski's terrified face. Fraser could see there was little breathing room left in the box. Ray's mouth and nose were now in constant contact with the glass. If they didn't get Ray out soon… _God._ He swept his palms urgently over the lid, seeking for the corners. "Ow," he cried out, pulling his hands back from the glass momentarily. His fingertips were dripping fresh blood. He'd hit fractured glass. Something had cracked the casing of the coffin. He could feel the spiral shivers radiating from a central point...

Oh, thank God. Brave Ray. Clever Ray. The shots he'd heard… that wasn't attempted suicide. He must have shot holes in the glass to let the water out. He'd bought himself a little more time. Without thought, he dug back down, scrabbling for the edges and… yes, _there._ His fingers caught the right angle. _"Ray,"_ he shouted, though he didn't know if he was shouting to Ray in the box to reassure him he was there or Ray kneeling in the grave beside him to let him know what he had found.

"What?" Vecchio barked back.

"Corner," Fraser gasped.

'Thank God,' Vecchio thought. At least now he knew what to do.

"We need to uncover the corner of this thing so we can get a shovel in and pry the lid open before he drowns." Welsh was on his hands and knees scooping sand away from the edge Fraser had found, trying to clear enough room to squeeze in the edge of the shovel. "Here, hurry up, Vecchio."

Ray wriggled out of the hole and jabbed the tip of the shovel into the corner of the box. "You're both gonna have to get out or it won't open," he hollered at Fraser and Welsh. "We'll be able to force it open from out of the hole.

Welsh struggled up the sand and joined Vecchio at his side. Fraser seemed to be frozen in place, on his knees, his hands sweeping the falling sand across the glass to get a clear view of Ray. He wasn't struggling anymore.

"Benny!" Vecchio shouted as Welsh grabbed the back of Fraser's jacket and jerked him out of the grave. Vecchio and Welsh got their fingertips under the lip of the lid and forced it open. Fraser reached in the water, twisting his hands in Kowalski's shirt. He pulled with everything he had, but it wasn't enough. Ray was dead weight. Welsh grasped Kowalski's belt and helped Fraser heave him out of the water onto the desert sand.

A red light flashed at the edge of Vecchio's vision. He froze turned his head and stared straight into the grave. Above him he could hear Benny calling Kowalski's name. He was out. But... _this_ had never happened before. Armando had never let it happen. _He_ had never let it happen.

Nobody ever got out of the box.

God. Ray remembered. He had been a part of this three times. How could he have forgotten? He _remembered._

No time to think. No time left. It wasn't even a decision in the end. Vecchio turned his body, shoved the three men down the pile of sand they had created and flung himself into the box. The cold water knocked the breath out of him. He pulled the lid down. Above him the tiny red light blinked once more. He closed his eyes. And tried to pray... He'd never even got to say...

The box exploded. Sand and glass shards rained down in the clear desert night.

* * *

It felt like it was raining, but that couldn't be right. The ground shook and little shards like icicles were peppering down on him. Fraser barely noticed. Oblivious to what was happening around him, he hovered over Ray's lifeless body, mechanically performing chest compressions he couldn't remember starting. His wrists were bleeding profusely, but nothing hurt. He was counting... 'twenty-nine, thirty... tip Ray's head back, start again.' Twenty-nine, thirty... his mouth sealed over Ray's, forcing air into his lungs. One breath, two. His head was ringing and his eyes were stinging and... "God, breathe, Ray..." Start again. One, two...

In the background, Welsh was on the phone demanding assistance. His voice was far away. Fraser looked for him, desperate for help. There was Welsh, crawling through the sand and debris. "Constable," he said, gruffly, and pushed his way in to take over chest compressions. Fraser moved on autopilot, sealing his face to Ray's. 'Breathe, dammit, _breathe_...'

For a full minute, Fraser breathed life into Ray. It was the longest minute of his life. After what felt like an eternity, Ray coughed and sputtered. Fraser rolled him to his side as he threw up the water that was drowning him. Welsh patted Ray on the back, helping to dislodge the remaining water. Fraser held Ray's head in his lap, stroking his wet hair, relieved.

Fraser looked around for his other friend. "Ray?" he called. Where was Ray? He just there a moment ago. "Ray?" he tried again, louder this time. There was no answer.

Welsh settled a hand on his shoulder. "Fraser, I'm sorry."

A sense of dread settled on Fraser, smothering his relief. He felt as though he was missing something...

"Ray?" he called again, turning his head frantically.

Welsh squeezed his shoulder. "I'm so sorry." His voice was rough. "He didn't make it."

"What do you mean _he didn't make it_?"

Welsh swallowed, looking nauseous. "He... he went into the box."

Fraser froze. He remembered something. He remembered...

 _Oh God._

"No…"

"Ben," Ray coughed and turned his head in Ben's lap. Everything was a blur.

Oh God. Ray Vecchio had died for him… _for them._

Blue and red lights flashed through the night, brighter and brighter. Police cars and medical personnel wound their way toward them through rough desert roads. It was too late. They were too late.

Fraser held Ray close and wept.

* * *

Epilogue

In spring, the following year, Fraser and Ray felt physically recovered, if not quite emotionally. Neither one of them had managed to figure out a way to talk about what happened in the desert. Fraser missed his friend. Ray missed the rivalry. He hadn't realized Vecchio was a friend until he was gone. It was strange to think the guy died for him. Chicago just didn't feel like home anymore.

"You know," Fraser said as he was fixing breakfast. "We've talked about, well, taking a break. Doing something together. Give ourselves time to figure out what to do next." 'Something to wash the past away,' he thought but didn't say.

"Yeah," Ray smiled. "I've been thinking about that too. You remember that adventure I wanted?"

"Yes?" Fraser stirred candy into Ray's coffee.

"We could go off and find that guy's hand."

"Yes," Fraser relaxed a little. Perhaps that would give them space to decide where to go next. Ray had made sounds about leaving Chicago behind. The job, the memories. "Yes, we could go on a quest."

"You got mail, by the way." Ray frowned. "Some place in Italy."

"Oh?" Fraser opened the envelope and scanned the contents. "Nothing important," he said, and crumpled it up, tossing it towards the trash can. "I'll get out some maps, show you the lay of the land."

A few days later, as they were packing for their trip, Ray found the paper, wadded up in a ball, behind the trash can. For some reason a prickle ran down his spine and he opened it up.

A check. Half a million dollars, from some guy in Italy.

Some _imaginary_ guy in Italy.

Ray could see exactly how Vecchio had done it. All that time in Vegas, worrying about his family, wanting to provide for them. Ben had been right. Vecchio had stolen from the Mob. But not for himself. For his family.

Right about now, Frannie and Ma Vecchio and the rest of them would be getting a big fat check from 'Uncle Antonio.' And maybe they wouldn't put two and two together. Maybe they would cash theirs.

But Ray knew Fraser. Fraser had loved Vecchio. And Fraser would never cash it.

Ray crumpled it up again and pushed it to the bottom of the can.

Fraser shook the snow off his parka and hung it up. Ray had stayed out to play with Diefenbaker and the other dogs while Fraser started dinner. They had decided on getting better acclimated to the weather by spending a few weeks at Fraser's cabin before leaving on their quest. Fraser secretly just wanted to be alone with Ray without having to worry about them freezing to death. He couldn't handle another funeral. He smiled at the thought of the two of them sharing his bed, snuggling for warmth under his grandmother's old quilts. Fraser shucked off his boots and padded into the kitchen to start a pot of water for tea and coffee.

He busied himself filling his tea ball with leaves and Ray's mug with chocolates. When the water was done, he filled each mug. Ray's instant coffee wasn't as good as what he was used to back in Chicago, but it was decent enough. Fraser stirred the chocolates in and picked up his own mug, blowing across the top before taking a tentative sip. He glanced over the rim of his mug and froze.

"Hey, Benny."

Fraser's mug fell from his fingers, shattering against the wooden floor. Scalding water and shards of ceramic covered his feet and the floor around him. He didn't move. Couldn't speak.

"Bit of a shock, huh?"

"Ray," Fraser finally found his voice. "How? You… you died."

"That's what I keep hearing." Vecchio shrugged his shoulders. "You didn't cash my check, Benny."

"What?" Fraser wasn't worried about some check, he was still fixated on the man before him sitting at his kitchen table.

"I had to make sure that you knew it wasn't blood money, Benny. Nobody died in order for me to get that money. All that money that went to Ma and Frannie and Maria and Tony, honest to God legitimate business deals that _I_ arranged myself. Not a single person lost their life."

"I already threw the check away."

"I figured as much. That's why there's one in the mail to Kowalski. Should be here today."

"Ray, I don't want or need your money."

"Benny, you and Kowalski need to do something different. That's why you left Chicago and came up here, right? You needed a change. The money the Iguanas had, it caused so much pain for so many people. I want it to do something good. So I made a nest egg for _my_ family from _my_ dealings with the mob guys. Retire up here with Stanley. Set up a pee-wee hockey league. Help the local kids grow up with something better. Give them opportunities you never had. Get Stanley to relax a little."

"Ray…" Fraser shook his head at the image and smiled fondly. His Ray had already relaxed a great deal since leaving Chicago behind.

"Cash the check, Benny. _Please._ Do it for me. Kids' problems here are not so different than kids' problems in Chicago. Poverty, lack of opportunity, drugs to cope with the boredom. You can help change that."

"Alright, if that's what you want, we'll cash it." Fraser turned to pull a dish towel off the counter and stooped down, collecting the pieces of broken ceramic. "Where have you been for the last year?"

"Hanging out in a bowling alley in Florida. I needed to make sure nobody came after my family."

Fraser wished he could be more reassuring here. "Zuko's vanished. Nobody's been able to find him or anyone connected to him."

"What if I can help with that?"

Fraser glanced up sharply from where he knelt on the floor, still picking up shards. "Do you know something?"

"Yeah, Benny." Ray smiled. He seemed fairly cheerful for someone who'd been in hiding for a year. "Seems Zuko likes bowling as well. I've been tailing him for the better part of this last year. Hiding out in the shadows."

Fraser's heart tightened, caught between anguished relief that his friend had survived, and cold blooded fury. Because, yet again, Ray had left him to go undercover, or _whatever_ the hell he'd been doing these last twelve months. Didn't he know what he'd put Fraser through? What he'd put Ray through, thinking he was the cause of Vecchio's death and oh God. Francesca, Maria, their poor _mother._ How could Ray have abandoned them all again? For duty?

For the first time in his life Fraser hated duty. He threw the broken crockery in the trash, the damp cloth in the sink. His voice was cold as he spoke. "Why haven't you come forward and told someone?" He could barely even look at Ray. "Me, or Ray, or Lieutenant Welsh. If you'd said anything," he swallowed back the hurt. "If you'd bothered to give us a _hint_ what you were doing, then we could have gotten him for Mark's death."

"Not that easy, Benny."

"Not that easy?" Fraser repeated, incredulously. He had wanted nothing more than to get his hands on Frank Zuko for what he had done to Mark and himself. And more than that he'd been grieving Ray and yet here was Ray, bold as brass, sitting there like nothing had ever happened. "Last time at least you sent me a postcard." He brought his hand up to scrub the headache that was starting between his eyebrows. "Ray…"

Ray held up his hand to silence his friend. "Hey, Benny. I'm sorry. I'm not explaining this well."

"So, explain."

Vecchio nodded, more mild than Fraser had ever seen him. He wasn't even riled up by Fraser's anger. If anything, he seemed rather sad. "Zuko, well... one of his deals went sour. His daughter got caught in the crossfire."

"Is she?" Fraser stopped himself. "Oh God..."

Ray rubbed his hand over his short cropped hair. "I don't know how," he smiled, "but she found me. Kids, you know? We always underestimate them." Fraser stared at him, bewildered. Oblivious to Fraser's confusion, Ray continued. "She told me where they hid the evidence. I can tell you where it all is. You can finally nail him, Benny." Vecchio's eyes were suddenly very fierce, boring right into Fraser's. "Nail him for everything he did to you. To Mark. To his little girl..."

Fraser stepped forward to meet Ray at the table and stopped. Something was wrong. Ray was dressed in flip-flops, khaki shorts and a brightly colored floral shirt. He wasn't dressed for the Arctic cold and snow.

"I can show you where they buried her."

The outer door swung open and Ray Kowalski entered the cabin with Dief at his heels. Fraser shivered as the cold air chilled the cabin. Vecchio didn't flinch.

"Ray…" A sudden tear slipped down Fraser's cheek. "You didn't… you're still…"

"Ben, who are you talking to?" Kowalski asked as he made his way to the kitchen, sorting through the mail along the way. "Oh, crap. Bills," he added, distracted. "I hate bills." He grumbled and put some music on, as he often did after a long day. Fraser's eyes flicked in his direction, then back to his friend.

"It's all good, Benny." Vecchio choked back his own tears. "No more tears for me. Just promise me, you'll get justice for his little girl, for yourself. Finally get Zuko off the streets. Can you and Kowalski do that? For me?"

Fraser nodded. "One last case. For you."

"I knew I could count on you." Vecchio smiled again, one of his happy radiant smiles with far too many teeth. Fraser almost wanted to laugh at how familiar that smile was. "Look, Benny. I want you to know. I'll be back, at least once more. And if I figure out where Amelia has been hiding, I'll tell you."

"Okay," Fraser whispered.

"Just... go easy on her. Don't let her get the chair."

Fraser looked at him dumbly.

"Promise? She loved me once."

"I promise." His voice shook.

"And besides, I have to come back. I need to talk to Kowalski. Let him know it wasn't his fault. And, you know, give him something to do, so he can put some closure to this." Fraser just stared. "And Benny, you need to kinda prepare him. I don't think he'll take seeing me very well. Don't need him freaking out on you. You see what I mean?"

Fraser shook his head, numbly. He didn't see much of anything anymore.

"Ah, Benny. It's like this. You look after him, I look after you. I look after him, he looks after you."

"You're talking in circles."

"Yeah." Ray laughed. "Death's like that. And hey, I don't have to worry about Chicago killing your spirit anymore. Take care of yourself and Kowalski." Vecchio stood up from the table and shook his loud shirt into place. "I'm glad to see you, Benny. Soon, I'll finally be able to go home."

"Ray…" Fraser said softly as his friend faded away.

"Yeah?" Kowalski answered as he studied an envelope between his fingers. "Hey, I got something from that same guy in Italy." Ray glanced to the floor and noticed the splash stains around Fraser's feet. His brow furrowed with concern as he looked back up at Fraser. "What happened? You okay?"

Wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt, Fraser stepped over the mess on the floor and pulled Ray into a fierce embrace.

Ray raised a hand and patted his shoulder, bewildered by his intensity. "You okay there, Buddy?"

"Yes. I'm fine. But we have one more case to solve."

"I thought we were done with all that."

"Zuko… It's a long story, but I know where to find him."

Ray nodded his head, dubiously. "Okay. So, er... where _is_ he?"

"I don't know yet. He said he'd tell me."

"Zuko said he'd tell you?" Ray patted the back of Fraser's head, then stepped back a little to look into his eyes. "Your pupils _look_ normal," he muttered. "You sure you didn't bang your head?"

"I'm fine, Ray. Much better now." Fraser smiled, tearfully. "Believe me. It will make sense."

"Nothing makes sense around you, Frase." Ray shook his head in exasperated affection, then kissed Fraser's cheek. "So long as you're sure you're okay."

He turned back to the mail, opened the envelope, and froze.

"What is this, Ben?"

"He said he'd sent it to you. He said to cash it, Ray. He wants it to do some good in the world."

Ray turned, his eyes wide open and his lips drawn tight. "Who said?" He knew the answer.

"He said it would be alright. He said he needed to talk to you. He said he'd tell you how to find Zuko."

"Ben..." Ray's Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. "This check, it's from Vecchio. But you knew that, didn't you?"

"Ray, it will be alright."

"You got dead men making house calls." Ray's voice shook. "That'snotalright. That is _not_ alright. Even for you that's..." He ran out of words. Fraser moved closer, wrapped his arms around him.

"No, really." Fraser smiled and dropped his forehead against Ray's, breathed in his air. His hand rested on his shoulder, peaceful and calm.

"It's alright, Ray. Everything's alright."

"What about Vecchio?"

"It's alright." Fraser smiled again and cupped Ray's cheek. "Ray's finally crossed the finish line."


End file.
